Secrets
by Maia Mill
Summary: CF- With Katniss and Peeta gone to the Quell, likely to never return, Madge and Gale forge a friendship, leaning on each other for support. Madge deals with her family's secrets, confusing feelings and imminent danger as the rebellion comes to District 12
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** Okay, so you know how my profile says that I only signed up for to publish one Lemon? Well, I lied. Ever since I read and fell in love with The Hunger Games Series, I felt the need to write about it. My main character in this one? Madge Undersee. I like writing from the POV characters that we don't really know a lot about. Gives you more liberty with their personalities. I also think that she has another side to her besides the sweet, innocent farce that she puts on now. People always ask what my theories on the Gale/Madge pairing (Gadge or Male, as I call it. Lol) and the role of the Undersees are. Instead of typing out long drawn out message board posts like I usually do, I put my theories in story form :D This takes place while Katniss and Peeta are in the Quell Match, leaving Madge and Gale behind to cope, and deals heavily with the relationship of the Undersees with each other, others and their roles in the rebellion. I'll warn you now, this is a drama. Through and through. It will have quite a bit of humor, but it's pretty dramatic overall. Lol (I just LOL'ed over drama). I'd say Drama/Coping/Adventure/Romance would say it right.

You can read and review or just read, and hopefully enjoy. As I always say, I welcome lurkers! Do let me know how I'm doing if you feel compelled to. It always helps.

I OWN NOTHING!! Not a thing. You see this thing? I don't own it. lol. This is just my ideas based off of Suzanne Collins' brainchild. ALL due credit is paid! I PROMISE!

**SIDE NOTE:** I effing hate the title, and I suck at making titles myself. So, if anyone can help me out with that, I'm all open for suggestions!

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"Okay, ladies and gentlemen, we have Peeta Mellark, who has volunteered to take Haymitch Abernathy's place in the arena. That is very brave of you, Mr. Mellark," Effie Trinket announces. She manages to keep a cheerful demeanor, but you can see the bits of sorrow in her eyes. Maybe she's become more attached to Katniss and Peeta than I thought she had.

As Peeta walks across the stage, his slight limp much less prominent than usual, I look over to Katniss. Even though she knew just as much as the rest of us that Peeta would volunteer, she still looks physically ill as he approaches Effie. She knows that only one of them is coming back alive. My heart breaks for her. I'm sure she'll try and keep a strong face when she talks us all in her visiting hour before she leaves. She'll definitely remain solemn and unreadable when she speaks with her family and me. Well, I'm not sure how proud she can stay when it's Gale's turn to say goodbye. I can't imagine that she won't shed tears when she parts ways with him… possibly for the last time. The last time. I choke up at the thought of that.

A gust of wind blows, and I wipe away a lock of my golden hair that has fallen in my face. By the time I've cleared my view, I look up to see Katniss and Peeta herded off of the stage by Peacekeepers. They push a shocked Effie as well as Haymitch off, too. I can hear Effie complaining in confusion. Even my father furrows his brows as they take them. The tributes were usually taken away, but not this fast, and they were never handled as roughly as Katniss and Peeta are now. It looks like they're taking them to the gallows instead of the Justice Building. Just then, a large Peacekeeper steps up to the microphone. I don't recognize him at all. He has dark brown hair and very pale skin, and his eyes are as dark as coal. He must be one of the many new Peacekeepers that came in this morning. However, he takes the microphone stand very authoritatively. I skim the crowd looking at the bewilderment on everyone's faces. My own face must reflect the same.

"The tributes will be immediately transported to the Capitol. There will be no visitation," he says coldly before walking away from the podium.

Many collective gasps and cries come from the audience. My father stands up, and I can see him arguing fiercely with the man, but the man does not seem fazed by him. The Peacekeepers line up at the base of the stage with their guns drawn, ready for any kind of resistance. Many people move away at the sight of this. Back to their homes. Back to their lives of compliance. I'm too stunned to move, though. I don't know what I'm expecting to happen. I don't think I'm ready to believe it yet. Katniss, Peeta. Are they really gone? Just like that. I'll never see one of them again. Or worse, either of them. My eyes well up with tears. Katniss is my only friend, and I couldn't even hug her one more time. Have one quick conversation about nothing, just to keep our visit as normal as we can. She was gone, just that fast.

Suddenly, I remember everyone else. I look over a few yards away to see a paralyzed Mrs. Everdeen clutching her heart as if it has burst. She keeps her eyes frozen to the emptying stage and her mouth hanging open. Prim, so frail and distraught, yells out as the people pass her.

"What? No, you can't do that! We have to see her! That's the rule!"

She fights to run up to the Peacekeepers, but a tall man holds her back, while who I'm guessing is his wife tries to pull Mrs. Everdeen away. Seeing Prim fight, tiny arms flailing, with the same fire that Katniss always has is almost too much for me. I have to force myself to look away, but the sight I catch is no better. Standing with his fists clinched, Gale's eyes are full of daggers all pointed at the Peacekeepers. He ignores any and everyone around him. He could snap at any moment and charge the line of them. _What good is that going to do, Gale?_ I think. If he tries anything, being an army of only himself, he will be killed instantly without a second thought. That won't help Katniss. That won't bring her back.

And, what am I supposed to do? Do I go up to stop him? I stare at him, anticipating his next move. He takes a step forward. People in the crowd push by him, but he keeps heading towards the front. My eyes widen, hoping that he doesn't plan on attacking, but there's no doubt of his insane intentions. I move up, too, tripping over people's feet and my own.

"Gale," I yell out to him, but the commotion is too loud for anyone to hear, "Gale! Wait! Stop!"

He either doesn't hear me or is ignoring my calls. I continue on yelling at the top of my lungs anyway.

"Stop it!"

He walks ahead but happens to glance back in my direction. His face is angry and frightening, but the second he sees me he stops. I shake my head as if to tell him what he already knows. _Don't do this. Katniss would never want you to_. After a few moments of glaring at me in silence, he drops his fierce expression and clinches his jaw. He looks at the people around him as if he was coming back to reality, not noticing that they were there. Reluctantly, he turns around and heads out of the square with his eyes on the ground, not acknowledging me. I watch him, his head hanging low, as he makes his way alone back to the Seam. I let out a deep sigh, partly of relief and partly out of sorrow.

Back at my house, I sit in my dining room turning my spoon through honey and ginger root tea. The grandness and size of the mahogany table only enhances the feeling of loneliness I have sitting by myself. I try not to think too hard about the events of the day. I came straight home after the ceremony. My father hadn't gotten back yet, and I wasn't in the mood for much talking anyway. There weren't any sounds in the house other than my own rustling. I updated my mother on the events of the day before administering the morphling to her and leaving her to sleep. For once, I envied her headaches. She was so debilitated in pain that she often thought of little else besides it. I wish my mind were that occupied with other feelings. Maybe I wouldn't focus so much on the pain in my heart over my lost friend. I performed frivolous tasks around the house for hours until I realized that it was nearly ten o'clock at night. I still wasn't hungry so I settled for a cup of tea, instead.

The front door opens, and my father walks in looking withered. He rubs his forehead as if he's trying to rub away a migraine. He usually does this when something is truly wrong; something he is having a hard time fixing. He walks past the dining room door and almost doesn't notice me. Then he walks back in the doorway and gives me a puzzled look.

"You're still awake," he says, sounding tired himself, "You really should go to bed, Madge."

"I can't. It's too quiet," I reply. He knows that I don't mean too quiet to sleep. Too quiet drown out my wandering thoughts. He sits down quietly in the chair beside me.

"I'm so sorry about today."

"Why didn't they let them have visitors? Sure, maybe not their friends, but what about their families? The Everdeens? The Mellarks? They're not coming back, and those… monsters denied them the chance to see their families for the last time," I shout. The anger was built in me. Surely, I don't mean that it is certain that they will both die, but I can't count out the real possibility that they could.

"They said it was a new policy. You'd think that they'd at least tell the mayor of a District about these new… policies."

"This isn't fair, dad. They're not even following their own rules anymore. Why do they keep on attacking Katniss like this?"

"Because she beat them at their own game with those berries last year. She found a loop hole, and showed them to be the fools that they are," he says forcefully. He catches himself before he becomes too heated.

His anger is no surprise to me. Though he may not have always been around when Katniss was, he'd always held her in the highest regard. I can tell that he admires her strength and perseverance, as do I. Despite his status, his hatred for the Capitol is always boiling over in the walls of our own home. It's the only time that he can even mention it. He used to speak of how things were in District 12 when he was my age. He told me of the brutalities, the whippings, and the executions that occurred almost daily. It's a far cry from the environment that I grew up in, but recently, it seems to be reverting back to its old ways. Seeing these things as a youth is what sparked his disgust towards the dictatorship of Panem. He thought that he could somehow change it by becoming mayor, but he quickly realized that his grasp of power only went so far and never far enough. Now, under the rule of the new Head Peacekeeper, Romulus Thread, he has nothing but a title.

My mother is the same way. Her family, the Donners, have always had a disdain for Panem politics, as well. Her grandfather, who manufactured metals, iron, and jewelry, created a pin out of gold. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary for him. He always created broaches for my great-grandmother or anyone else that wanted one. But, this one wasn't his usual flower, ribbon or monogram. It was a bird. A Mockingjay. A hybrid of a Capitol mutt and a wild bird, and a living embodiment of the Capitol's failed attempt at manipulating nature. He never made it as a gift to anyone. It was more of a sign of his beliefs; beliefs that were passed down through generations using this pin. It was passed down to his son, my grandfather, who passed it to my mother's twin sister, Maysilee. Maysilee, who died as a tribute in the 50th Quell Match, gave it to my mother at the reaping, who passed it down to me. And, I gave it to Katniss, partially due to my own decision and also by the demand of my father. We both insisted that she wear the pin in the arena the entire time.

Katniss deserved the pin. It belonged to many strong people in my family. While, I didn't see myself as being as strong, I couldn't think of many people in my life with greater will than Katniss. She needed to have that pin. Even when she offered to return it, I wouldn't take it back. It was meant to be a symbol of hope, but it was also meant to be a sign; a signal of sorts. A way to let others across Panem know that it was time. Had she known that such a small token would have such a great significance, would she have accepted the gift from me? If my father had known that I knew just what this significance was, I'm sure he wouldn't have entrusted me with the delivery, as not to endanger myself.

He doesn't know that I hear it; late at night, when he's in his study or speaking with my mother in private. I hear their planning and their plotting. When they bring their outwardly innocent friends over, they would all have conversations that would sometimes require a code to understand. Many times, they would speak away from my presence or ask me to do a meaningless task to get me out of the house. It's clear that they don't want me involved, but I know. Simply speaking of rebellions is enough to get you arrested or tortured. However, inciting one would carry a punishment nothing short of death. This is what my parents intend on doing. This is what they've always wanted to do. Peacekeepers would come to him with reports of suspected conspirators, and he would do little to punish them and would find round-a-bout ways to prove their innocence or ignorance of what they were talking about. For years, no one thought twice about his actions. But, in recent times, most of the information of conspiracies, uprisings and problems in other districts has been withheld from him. It upsets him, I could always tell. And, I can tell by the way he looks tonight.

"I wish everything was different," I say as I prop my chin over my folded hands on the table. He ran his hand over my hair.

"I know. Times are hard, love. It'll get better, though. I promise," he says smiling, "So what are you going to do tomorrow?"

"I'll probably stay around here. I can clean and help mom out some."

"No, I think you should get out and have a little fun. You'll only make yourself sadder sitting here and thinking about it."

"What should I even do?"

"Go out with your friends." I look at him with an exasperated glare. _Friends? Do you mean Katniss?_ I think. He understands his mistake. "Oh, I'm sorry. Well, still try to get out."

"Okay, I will."

"Good," he pats my shoulders, "Go to bed now, Madge. It's been too long of a day."

I do agree with that. I feel sleep weighing heavily on me. With a smile and a "Goodnight", I exit the room and my dad alone to think. Once I get upstairs and have time to lie in my bed and contemplate everything. This is what I didn't want to do, allow my mind to wander. I curl on my side under the covers and wonder the Katniss is doing, and Peeta. Are they all right? What if they were taken away under the assumption of going to the Games, but they're really being tortured or worse? Was it all a set up? And, what about Prim? She was so mortified and upset at the reaping that I can't imagine that she is able to sleep right now. Same with Mrs. Everdeen.

And, then there's Gale. He was ready to get himself killed today. Or, maybe he was wanting to get himself killed. I don't know. Either way it was reckless of him to try. He must be in awful shape now. Unlike me and Prim and Mrs. Everdeen, he can't stay in and clear his mind tomorrow or the next day, even if he wants to. He has to go to the mines in a few hours. To work a painful, strenuous, and in many ways demoralizing job. I hurt for him, hoping that he will cope well through this. What am I thinking? I don't even know if I can deal with this again. There's no way he will. Today might have been his last straw. I think back to the look on his face when he turned around. Anger, sadness, loss, and loneliness all in one expression. Well, I have an idea. It probably won't work, and I shouldn't even entertain it, but maybe I'll try it. That face. It's my motivation. It's the last thing I think about before I drift off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Sorry to whomever is reading this for the long update. Classes have been killer. I have most of this story written, but it's in a bunch of pieces here and there. I'm having to connect them all together, so that's what I've been working on.

Okay, so I have no idea if the school kids of District 12 get a summer vacation (probably not), but dang it I'm giving them one. They deserve it. lol. So, that's why everyone is able to wander around.

Bear with me through a couple of "getting to know you" chapters. The meat of the story comes in a in a little bit. I'm trying to lay a little bit of foreshadowing in these chapters, though, to pass the time.

Hope you like 'em :D

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The sun is beaming today, but there is still a decent breeze. I trek down the street to the Victor's Village. My hair is tied back out of my face and to get it off of my neck. My sandals, denim shorts and lavender tank-top aren't even doing much for the heat, but it should cool down by the evening, if I even intend on staying out that long. I brought a gray cardigan sweater anyway, just in case. My father was gone by time I woke up, but he left a note for me on the table:

_Remember, I don't want you inside today._

_- Love, Dad _

So, I'm going to the only other place I know to go to, despite Katniss' absence. I don't know why. I just feel a need for familiarity. I need to be back in the place where I had so many good memories, hoping that it will ease the sadness. The Village is dead, though. It makes sense that it would be. Of the twelve houses lined on the street only three of them have occupants. But now, only one of them has life. I knock on the front door. After a few moments, Mrs. Everdeen answers.

"Oh, Madge," she says as she hugs me, "It's so nice to see you."

"And you, Mrs. Everdeen. I came by to say 'hello.' Are you busy right now?"

"No, not at all. Come in."

I follow her through the house to the living room. I was wrong. Coming here doesn't spark any happy memories. On the contrary, it's more like the happy memories make me even more miserable. Katniss has only been gone for one day, and there's already a hole in the house. Mrs. Everdeen had opted not clean up after the preparations for the reaping, and I don't blame her. The brush she used for Katniss' hair still sits on the table. I can't stop looking at it as I take a seat on the sofa. After offering me refreshments, which I deny, she sits down on a chair. Her smile is definitely painted on to hide sadness. She asks me quick questions about me and my family.

"Is your mother doing well?"

"She's fine, I suppose. The headaches aren't as bad today."

"That's good. Do send her my best wishes."

Then she goes on about how she cooked stewed turkey last night and how Mr. Mellark brought by some bread loaves and some cookies for Prim on his way to pick things up from Peeta's house. It's hard to deny the awkwardness in the conversation. We both know what the other wants to talk about, but neither of us want to say anything about it. Her hand shook slightly as she brushed some dust off of the coffee table. Silence. Then, Prim walks in. She is carrying two bags and a heavy heart. Mrs. Everdeen goes up and grabs the bags from her.

"Hi, Madge." Her little voice is so dismal that it's hard to return a smile, but I try anyway.

"Hello. How are you doing today?"

"I'm okay." Without another word she puts the bags of food on the ground and runs upstairs.

"She'll be fine, Madge," Mrs. Everdeen says, as if she's trying to convince herself of it, too. "Did you see all of those Victors chosen?"

"Oh, I didn't watch it." More like I couldn't. I don't know how she was able to.

"We did. It was very odd," she begins, shaking her head in disbelief, "You're so used to seeing young people going up there, but it was everyone. There are quite a few people around my age and much older. Katniss and Peeta are easily the youngest in the bunch. Well, there's Johanna… um… I can't quite remember her last name right now; the girl from District 7 a few years ago. She and Finnick Odair are fairly young, as well."

"Finnick Odair?" I'm nearly floored at hearing that Finnick Odair was chosen. He's certainly the most popular of the Victors, especially amongst the women of the Capitol. He is indescribably attractive, so I would've thought that all of Panem would rally to keep him out of the Quell. I sorely underestimated President Snow. He doesn't even care about what the people of the Capitol would want. Everyone was fair game.

"Yes, it's… sad really. Everybody thought that the Victors were safe for life. I…" Her voice breaks off.

"My parents said that you are both welcome at our house anytime. We would love to have you."

"Thank you, very much," she says as she clutches my hand.

I stay for a bit longer, but being in Katniss' house is really getting to me. So, after a couple of uplifting hugs, I am town-bound. I scan the shops thinking of which one would pique my interest. Shoes? No, I don't feel the need for any. I don't plan on doing much walking, so the shoes I have will suit me just fine. Dresses? Hm, not particularly. Bakery? No, absolutely no the bakery. I make my way towards the ribbons shop. It's something to pass the time, I suppose.

As I sift through the ribbons for a while, I feel eyes staring me down. I don't turn around, but I hear the sound of whispers. A set of footsteps approach me. I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I don't know who I was expecting, but when I turn around I'm greeted with the arrogant grin of one guy and the awkward grin of another. I sigh in disappointment. Les Wollwood and Myron Milford prop themselves up against the table on either side of me. They're both in my year at school. They rarely speak to me except to ask a question about a class assignment. When we were younger we were forced to play together by our parents. Well, I was forced. Myron, who is slightly on the heavier side, isn't as much of a bother, but Les, whose family owns a repair shop, is always a headache to hear speaking. If he isn't going on about himself he is attempting to woo you with his looks which, because of his awful personality, are mediocre at best. I feel horrible saying so, but it's true. Les' golden hair is slicked back and shimmers in the light. He towers over me with his fit frame, as he picks up a set of ribbons in front of me.

"These are very pretty, Madge," he says with a snobbish tone, "You should definitely get them."

"I'm just looking today, Les, but thank you. I'll think about them" I smile, trying to end the conversation before it starts.

"How are you enjoying the break? Haven't seen you in a while."

"I'm doing well. I'm just keeping to myself around the house. That's all."

"I'm sorry about your friend," Myron says halfheartedly. I smile and nod in his direction.

"Oh that's right, the Everdeen girl," Les says, not even really paying attention, "That must've been pretty bad, huh?"

"It is, and unfortunately it's not something that I wish to rehash," I snap.

"My apologies," he replies insincerely, "She really was a pretty thing, despite being from the Seam."

"Excuse me?" My blood is beginning to boil.

"No harm meant, Madge. All I'm saying is that she cleaned up nicely considering how she should've looked."

"You're ridiculous, Les," I say, throwing down my handful of ribbons, "And, you're talking about her like she's dead. She's still alive!"

"But, have you seen the Career Victors? I'm not sure how long anyone can last against them in the arena. Someone her size usually gets taken out on the first day," he chuckles.

I shove him roughly into the ribbons table and glare at him. He looks genuinely confused by my anger as I storm out of the store. I wish I could turn around and hit him, but I don't want to cause any more of a scene. How dare he even think to utter those words to anyone, especially to me? In school, he never even said one word to Katniss. He hardly even said four words to me. I'd seen him talking to Peeta every now and then, but Peeta never seemed to show much interest in a friendship with him. I see why.

As I walk through the section of merchants' houses, I see all of the people in the buildings smiling and laughing. They feed their bouncy young children with toothy grins. The boys flirt with the giggly girls, who want nothing more than their attention. People joke loudly with each other or buy food and oil to cook full dinners for their families tonight. They live without worries; without any care. Even growing up amongst them, I don't feel that connection with most of them.

I've always had to worry about the health of my mother, many times having to take care of her myself on her worst days. I've spent many nights making a dinner that I will eat by myself, because my father is working and my mother isn't well. If I was lucky, Maeve, a kind young woman from the Seam that my father hired to help me and mother out, would stay long enough to join me. But, since she is pregnant now, I don't even see much of her anymore. Katniss would sometimes come over, too, but I would opt for dinner at her home instead. It was much fuller than mine house. Contrary to popular belief, I've had struggles. Certainly not on the level of anyone in the Seam but more than many people over here; somewhere in the middle. Perhaps that's why I latched on to Katniss. She learned how to work through her hardships, while the girls in my parts wouldn't know a thing of the sort.

It's always hurt me to see how cruelly people from either side of District 12 treat each other. Such a clever and vindictive way that the Capitol has kept us separate. We can't have people coming together and rebelling now, can we? Katniss never treats me different, and I never thought of her differently either. But, it's others who don't understand the wrongs of the discrimination. It's Mrs. Mellark, who has come to my father's house numerous times complaining about the "filthy, disgusting Seam trash" that comes "snooping" by her home. For all she knew they could just be walking back home, but she wouldn't care. It's the boy who ridiculed me so harshly for not having what _he_ felt like was enough name slips in the reapings pool. Gale.

Suddenly I feel bad for comparing him to Mrs. Mellark. He's not like her at all. His hatred doesn't come from elitism but rather from awful life experiences.

After hours of wandering, I walk back to my house. My father should be content enough with the length of my excursion that he'll allow me to stay inside tomorrow. When I creep the door open quietly, I'm surprised to see that he is already home, but he's not alone. Two young male Peacekeepers are seated in the living room talking with him.

"What exactly did they say to warrant…" He stops himself and catches my gaze, as do the others. Without even greeting me or allowing me to speak, he quickly says, "Madge, will you give us a minute alone?"

I don't question him. He doesn't look like he in the mood for questioning. His face is stone cold, and even through his glasses I can see the angry glint in his eyes. I walk up the stairs just as I'm told, but I take a seat near the top of the steps and listen in. There is certainly concern in their voices.

"So, what was said," my father begins.

"There was a small group of them," one voice grumbled, "One man started to yell something about the mines being used as oppression. He didn't try to hide his words at all. Then three others joined in; two men and a woman. They went on about things needing to change and the need to overcome."

"The other miners tried not to pay them attention, and the disruptors were promptly arrested."

"Did they ever say that they intended on rebelling or simply that they were overworked and needed to stand up for themselves, because that _is_ true." My father seems to be trying to confuse them by softening the meaning of the miners' words. It must be working because the Peacekeepers take a moment to respond.

"Well, Mayor Undersee, those words can be taken as inciting a revolt, so we had to take the necessary precautions."

"But, Thease, they never said that they were trying to rebel, so they were arrested for no real reason other than how some people might have taken it." Of course, Thease Withgott. He is a new Peacekeeper, but he is from the District. He's only a few years older than me and very much inexperienced.

"Yes… I mean no. It was for a good reason." Yes, definitely confused.

"I believe that without evidence of intent, you can't charge them for inciting anything."

"With all due respect, sir," the second man says, "this is the third incident in the mines that we've had in the past week. We can't afford to take things lightly anymore. They seem to be up to something, so we must remain alert."

The third? I had no idea there were that many arrests recently.

"Well, I can't criticize you for following orders and doing your jobs. As always, I greatly appreciate you both giving me this information."

"You are the mayor," Thease says, "You should have a right to know."

The men leave shortly after, and my father moves about down stairs. I stand up to inconspicuously go to my room, but dad knows me better than that.

"There's no use leaving now. You've heard everything already." He appears at the base of the stairs.

"I'm sorry for listening," I say, "But, it seemed as if there was a problem."

"There is, as you know, but it's nothing to concern yourself with. Those two give me information that is withheld from me by Head Peacekeeper Thread."

"Why doesn't he want you to know anything?'

"I don't know, Madge. I've stopped trying to understand why anything that's done around here is done anymore."

"So, who were the miners," I ask warily. The last thing that Katniss needs to learn of when she returns is that Gale was one of the people arrested.

"It's no one that you would know from school or anything. They were much older than you, at least in their mid-thirties." I breathe a sigh of relief, but I feel awful for them anyway.

"I didn't know that there were that many threats of revolts." Is he finally going to tell me what I already know of his efforts?

"What did I tell you," he smiles, "It's nothing for you to worry about. How did your day go?"

"It was fine. I went to see the Everdeens. They're doing all right. Then, I went into town and ran into some kids from school."

"Anyone I know?"

"Les Wollwood and Myron Milford," I groan, "That's all."

"You don't sound too excited about that."

"I don't really know them very well anymore anyway, so I wasn't expecting to enjoy their company."

"Maybe you should try talking to kids that you actually like then or at least that you know," he laughs.

He's right again. I hadn't given my original plan since yesterday. It seems like quite a ridiculous idea. He works entirely too much and rarely speaks to me without Katniss anyway. But, wouldn't he feel a little alone with her gone, too? At the very least I could open up the door. I don't allow myself too much hopefulness, but I am just enough to do it.

All right, tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

As I walk through the Seam, I'm greeted with many strange stares and whispering voices. I'm sure that my blonde hair and blue eyes instantly indicate that I don't belong there. Even those whom I know from school give me cold glares. The unwarranted anger makes me uncomfortable, and I contemplate just going back home. Then, I think about Gale and how upset he was, how upset I am, and I carry on. I've spent all day contemplating whether or not it would be a good idea to come down here before deciding that really I had nothing to lose anyway. Still I am very nervous to be here. I try to remember which house Katniss said was his, but too many of the run-down buildings look the same. I decide to ask someone.

I walk over to a clothing stand. There is a gangly, old woman with long gray hair working there and a young boy sifting through a batch of cloths in the back. She gives me a look to ward me off, but I approach her anyway. I'm growing tired of this behavior.

"Excuse me, Ma'am. Can you please tell me where the Hawthornes live?" Her eyes widen offensively. I see the boy behind her perk up as well.

"What do _you_ want with them?"

"I just wanted to speak to the eldest son, Gale. I know him. We're both friends with Katniss."

"Oh, you're friends with _Katniss_, eh," she says rudely, as if it is a bad thing. Just then, the boy stands up and walks over to me.

"That's right, you're Madge Undersee, huh," he asks.

"Undersee," the old lady gasps, seeming to regret her impolite actions.

"Yeah, the Mayor's daughter. Gale and Katniss used to sell goods to them. Paid well. I'm Rory. Gale is my brother."

With a closer look at him, I wonder how I couldn't have realized it before. Everything, down to his straight black hair and sharp facial features, resembled a younger Gale. He is so skinny but nearly my height, which at 5'5" isn't saying much. Still, he looks older than he probably is. That seems familiar. I've never seen him in the reaping before, so he can't be any older than twelve, but he looked close to fourteen. His voice has hardly begun to change yet. He holds a large basket of clothes in his arms as he flashes me a small smile.

"Oh, that's perfect," I smile back, "Is Gale at home yet?"

"Not sure."

"The miners don't get back until eight," the old woman says. She is much more cordial now.

"Well, I can come back another time then."

"No," Rory urges, "It's almost seven now, and you're already here. You might as well wait around. You can just come back with me. This is my last stop."

I agree and follow him down the coal-stained cobblestone street. Seeing me walking with him has piqued the others' interests even more. He doesn't pay them any attention, though. His attention is on holding up his basket, which threatens to topple over at any minute.

"Do you need help with that?"

"No way, I've got it just fine. I do this every day."

"Every day?"

"Just about. My mom washes the clothes around here."

"I thought that she was cleaning for Haymitch."

"Well, that too but really for extra cash. She's always done this, especially after my dad died."

"I see. That's a lot of clothes."

"Hey, I'm happy to see 'em. For a while, no one even gave us anything. That's why she started working for Haymitch in the first place. Katniss got her the job."

"Why weren't they giving you guys clothes?"

"Don't wanna be associated with an illegal family, right?"

He could only be talking about one thing; Gale's whipping, his beating. I tried not to think about that day, but it still hurt me. His neighbors were so heartless that they wouldn't even help his family? Fighting through the storm to get him the morphling for his wounds was so second nature to me that I would've thought that the people he grew up with would be even more supportive. An illegal family. If anyone ever knew of the dangers of walking with me, as well.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. It was still wrong of them."

"I know, but what can you say? That's just the way it is." He really sounds like Gale now.

We walk up to a small, wooden, one-story house. It's white, but sides are so stained with coal dust that it takes on a dark gray tone. Rows of laundry lines spread across the patchy grass of their yard. A light comes in from the two front windows. He goes through the front door with me trailing behind. The room isn't very large. It's scarcely filled with brittle-looking furniture. There are three lanterns positioned around the room, but the room is still much darker than it should be. I see Hazelle Hawthorne, Gale's mother, with her back to us, already hunched over a bucket of water and laundry, while another little boy plays with a precious little girl.

"Rory, is that you? How was the load this evening," she turned around and was a bit taken aback when she saw me.

"Hi, I'm Madge Undersee, Katniss' friend," I say cheerfully.

"I remember you," her eyes light up as she stands up to face us, "You're the girl who brought Gale the medicine. I never got to thank you."

"Oh, it's all right, Mrs. Hawthorne. No thanks needed." I rub my arm nervously.

"She wanted to talk to Gale, so I told her to just wait here for him," Rory chimes as he sets the basket at his mother's side.

"Certainly," she replies, "I'm sorry that there is such a mess around here, but that's the business, I guess."

"There's no call to impress. You should see my room sometimes," I laugh and she chuckles, too.

She sits down with the clothes, and Rory heads into the tiny kitchen. I get a glimpse of Hazelle's hands as she reaches in the basket for a pair of jeans. Her hands are red and the skin looks to be a bit scarred. She runs the shirt over the washboard a few times and goes to grab another pair of jeans without looking. I see her flinch back when her hand accident brushes over a pair of scissors.

"Ugh, oh no," she says to herself.

"Are you all right, Ma'am?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine. I'm just going to have to hold off on washing until this stops bleeding. It's gonna set me back a bit, though. I'm on a tight time-crunch for these things."

"Here," I say as I walk over to her, "I can wash some for you."

"No, no, no, you just sit down. I wouldn't put a guest to work," she laughs.

"I'll just work on it while you heal up," I smile, "Don't worry. I have to wash my mother's clothes sometimes when Maeve can't be there. I know what I'm doing."

"All right, but not for long," she says as she reluctantly takes a seat on a chair nearby.

I roll up my sleeves and begin to work on the load under the watchful eye of Mrs. Hawthorne. The water is freezing as I put my hands in. It's no wonder why her hands look so withered. I make sure to get any hint of dirt out of the clothes. I don't want my work to reflect badly on her, but I'm actually doing quite nicely. Hazelle looks pleased with the job that I'm doing, and I'm just about done.

"How have you been," she asks.

"I have been better, but I'm managing. It really gets lonely, though."

"I know. Gale doesn't say it to me, but I know he misses her, too."

"I can imagine. It's bad enough for me, so I know it must be killing him."

"Yes, well maybe you two can help each other out."

Just then the door creaks open. Speak of the Devil. A worn Gale walks in, scratching his hair. His jumper is unzipped and the top part hangs at his waist. The olive skin of his arms and the whiteness of his sleeveless undershirt don't match his dust-covered face and uniform. He stops mid-step when he sees his guest. It's odd enough that I'm here at all, but he has to be puzzled as to why I'm washing clothes, too.

"Madge?"

"Hi, Gale," I say timidly.

"She's helping me wash some of these, because I cut my hand a little bit."

"Why…"

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," I quickly reply. Confusion turns uncaring as he tosses his hard hat and gloves in a corner. I stop washing.

"Well, I'm doing fine. Thanks."

"Can I talk to you?"

"I'm really tired"

"Gale, she been here for an hour," Hazelle scolds and turns back to me, "Sure you can talk to him. I've got the rest of the loads covered. My hand is okay now. Go on."

Gale rolls his eyes slightly and shakes his head, as he goes back outside. I'm assuming that he means for me to go out there, too. I close the door behind me and sit down on the step porch. He stands up leaning with his back against the house. His arms are folded and he looks at me as if he wants me to start talking first.

"I'm sorry that I came by like this."

"You want to know how I've been?"

"Yes, and I mean… I don't know. No one really understands how I feel right now, so I can't talk about it to anyone."

"So, you came to me to talk?" He is making me feel dumber by the second.

"I figured _you'd_ understand what I'm going through."

He gazes ahead in silence. The town is so quiet that all I hear is the flutter of a sheet on the clothes line blowing in the wind. From a distance, the buzzing of the electric fence can be heard, as well. He pushes off of house and comes to sit next to me on the step, making sure not to make any physical contact with me.

"They could've at least let us say bye," he says, making little eye contact.

"Yes, apparently it was a new policy," I say sarcastically.

"Only because it was Katniss. Had it been anyone else, there wouldn't have been a problem with it. I always told her how they work. I told her that it needed to be stopped and fast. She believed me too late."

"Do you watch the coverage, at all," I ask immediately trying to change the dangerous turn that this subject has gone on. I think he understood what I was doing.

"No. No good came from me watching it last time. Do you?"

"No. Maybe it's for the best that we don't," I knew what he was really talking about and he nodded in agreement, "I visited the Everdeens today. Mrs. Everdeen is trying to be hopeful, but poor Prim is a mess."

"I can't bring myself to go over there again. I went by that night, and I couldn't take it."

"They understand. It's really empty in the house."

He grows very quiet. He fiddles mindlessly with a thread hanging down from his sleeve. His face was again somewhere far away. I look into his eyes without him knowing. The gray tone of them seems even more vibrant than usual. I'd never seen him look so lonely. I didn't speak much to him during the games last year, so seeing him like this is new to me. Before I realize it, he looks at me, catching me staring at him. He raises his eyebrow, and I quickly recover myself and turn away. That was a bit awkward.

"It's getting kind of late now," I say as I stand up, "You have to go to bed, so I'll be off."

"You came all the way over here just for that" he asks with a hint of a chuckle. What did he mean "just for that?" I thought it was pretty important. I guess he's right, though. I do have more.

"I just wanted to let you know… that I'm here if you need me." His smile fades. "It was tough last time, and it's going to be even harder this time. You have me here… if need me. I don't want to go through this alone either."

He doesn't say anything back. He only stares at me.

"You know I don't have much spare time. I come home from work at eight at night, and I have to be _back_ at work at five in the morning. The only day I have off is Sunday, and I think I'll just use those for resting now." He flings a rock angrily across the yard as he says it.

I know what that means. He's shutting me out. I can't say that I'm surprised, though. Who am I to him but Katniss' well-to-do friend or the Mayor's mute daughter or a former customer of his? Why should I ever think that he would be willing to open up to me? It was silly to think that. But, part of me had hoped that, both of us feeling a sense of loss, he would at least consider it. Silly me. I stand up and wipe the dust off of my clothes, attempting to mask my disappointment.

"It's just an invitation. You know where I live," I start to walk away.

"Sorry that I can't be of much help."

"It's quite all right, Gale. I know what you mean. I'm busy a lot, too." I'm a terrible liar. "I'll see you around. Let me know if you hear anything. Have a nice night."

"You, too"

I move across the lawn, making sure to not let him see me glancing back. I kind of hoped that he would suddenly change his mind. But, he doesn't even look back at me as he walks in the door. I drop my head and look to the ground. Silly me.


	4. Chapter 4

I stand in front of a crowd of people at the train station. It's daytime, but you'd never know it with all of the gray clouds and fog. It's raining terribly, and I don't have an umbrella. There are much more people here than I've ever seen. Everyone from the town and the Seam, it looks like, is on the platform. I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn around to see my father. My mother has made her way out of the house, too. It's been so long since I've seen the both of them together outside of the house. I'm temporarily happy to see them until I take in their somber faces. Glancing around the crowd, everyone is donning the same expression. Gloomy colors, blacks and grays, take over the crowd.

Further down the front of the line, I see the Everdeens and the Hawthornes standing together. Hazelle holds a tiny girl and is flanked by Rory and a smaller boy. Gale stands next to them with one arm around Mrs. Everdeen and a hand on Prim's arm. What is going on? Just then, almost silently from the mist, a train approaches the station. It's a Capitol passenger train, that's for certain. Once it comes to a complete stop, a side door slides opens. The first person to emerge is Haymitch. Though he exits near the Everdeens, he hardly even looks in their direction. He passes them and disappears into the crowd. Two attendants step off the train and stand in front of the door as a large wooden crate is handed down to them. As they walk backwards with it, I see that it's long, and deep. It could easily hold a human being. My eyes widen. A coffin.

The scene makes sense to me now. I'd seen it too many times before, but often my parents made me stay home during one. When they lower the rest of the box, the other side held by two other men, I can make out a golden necklace of some sort, sitting atop of it. I can't remember where I'd seen it before until I recall Peeta clutching it at the reaping. Oh God! It's Peeta! He's dead! They set him down on the platform. I start to run up to him, but I'm stopped the moment I see two more attendants lowering down another box; a smaller one. Mrs. Everdeen and Prim turn away. This box is fashioned with an all too familiar trinket on the top. I recognize it instantly. It's my pin, Katniss' pin. I fall to my knees. My greatest worry has been confirmed. They're dead. Both of them are dead.

I let out a scream so loud and blood-curdling that I startle myself. How did I not know until just now? My drenched hair hangs in my face as I beat my hands repeatedly against the water collecting on the station floor. I'm not even acting like my normal self in my hardest times of grieving. I've never lost control so much, but I continue doing just that. People are beginning to stare, even my own parents, the Everdeens and Gale. Let them all stare. I couldn't care less. Why they weren't beside themselves as well was a mystery to me. I lean forward but fall into a puddle. When I open my eyes, my face is buried in my pillow.

I shoot up quickly, gasping for air, and scan my surroundings. Purple comforter, bay window, flower painting. I'm in my room. How did I get here? How did I get to the train station? I can't tell the difference between dreams and reality. I step on the floor and the first thing my feet hit is a pile of clothes. I pick up a couple of pieces of clothing and hold it up to the moonlight coming through the window. They're my blue jeans and my sky blue shirt. The last clothes I remember wearing. It must've been another dream. This is the second one I've had of the same sort. The last time, I was watching them get killed during game coverage. So vivid and real, but dreams nonetheless. I close my eyes, and try to shake the memory of it.

I shuffle to my bathroom, still weakened by the horrors of my dream. I turn on the light and get a glimpse of my tear-stained face in the mirror. I was crying in my sleep? I rinse my face off, and go back to lie in bed. Sleep doesn't want to return though, and after that, I'm not sure if I even want it to. I stay on top of my covers curled up in a ball. I stare out my window at the moon. I can't do this. I can't suffer through these nightmares waiting for the day that they come true. I have to get my mind off of this, or I'll drive myself mad. I have to do… something.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I apologize for an OOC-ness, but when you only have one quick (and kinda rude) convo between two characters, you kind of have to improvise. lol.

* * *

I don't know why I'm here tonight. I never intended on it. The dark coal is beginning to stain my sandals, and I can't imagine the number that it's doing to the seat of my pants. But, I'm still sitting here, waiting.

I arrived here at about seven. None of the lights in the house were on, so I figured that Hazelle and the kids must not be home. Better that way, anyway. I don't want them to think I'm looking desperate trying to come back every night. Well, it's only been last night and tonight, but it's still a little odd. So, I parked myself on the porch and this is where I've been ever since. A few people walked by, staring once again. Did they recognize from yesterday? Probably not. But, here was this strange girl snooping at the Hawthorne's door again. Only one person even formally acknowledged me.

"Hey," one man yelled, "What are you doing over there?"

"I'm just waiting for them to get home?"

"You know 'em?"

"Yes, I do." He looked at me with a suspicious glare, scoffed, and walked away.

That was about a half an hour ago. No one has bothered me since.

I see a bunch of people walking past the lawn. They all look tired and very dirt. I can even tell that in the darkness of the night. They must be the miners. Sure enough, one lone figured round the corner to the yard in front of me. He still has his hard hat on and looks beat down again. As he lifts his head, he sees me sitting on the step with my knees folded up to my chest. I must have looked like a lost little girl to him. He stops momentarily, but then walks past me. He opens up the door and throws his things inside before returning outside. He stands behind me. I keep my gaze to the ground, but I can tell that he's leaning up against the door. I guess he wants to be as close to the door as possible, so he can ditch me quickly.

"Is this going to be a nightly thing," he asks with a hint of an attitude. I don't let it faze me.

"You know, well you probably don't know, but I've always been someone who's been able to keep things that bother me to myself and hide when I'm upset. I don't have any siblings and few friends, so I have no choice. I don't talk about my problems to anyone and it suits me just fine. But, this is becoming hard on me. It's too much. This has nothing to do with you needing help, okay? I thought it did, but it doesn't. It's me. I'm the one who can't do it alone."

"Madge, what am I supposed to do?" He doesn't say it in a cruel way, but rather in a truly spent way.

"How did you do it? Having someone you care about in the games, not knowing if she'll even live? What did you do the first time?"

"I hunted. I still had to take care of my family and hers, too."

"And, it just went away? I find that hard to believe, Gale." I turn and look up at him. He shrugs. "Don't you wonder how they're doing? How she's doing, at least? I do. It shows up in my dreams. My nightmares, really. I keep seeing them dying in different ways. It's always the same, though. They don't come back alive."

"Nightmares?"

"Yes, I'm not saying that that is what I think will happen, but it scares me. Even still, I can't bring myself to watch anything about it. I guess I'm hoping that not knowing will somehow… ignorance is bliss, I guess."

He doesn't speak, so I go on.

"I won't bother you again. I promise. And, I know you don't have time. Truly, I do, and I'm not asking for your time anymore. I don't know what I'm asking for. But, this is weighing on me, and I just want it to go away." I exhale deeply. I had to get that out. He's silent for a while again.

What another waste of time. I shouldn't have bothered. I feel like such an idiot. I'm coming off as whiny and needy. Who needs that around?

"What about tomorrow?"

"Huh?"

"I have a feeling that you'll just keep coming back until I agree with you. So, I'll agree with you tonight," he sounds utterly exasperated. Great, it looks as if I'm portraying myself just as I thought I was. "Tomorrow?"

"Uh… Yes."

"Okay then. Wait for me at the meadow. It's the only place I can think of beside here, unless you want kids running around. I'm guessing daddy doesn't mind you being out around this time." I resent his tone of that sentence.

"He won't be home, so this time is fine."

"I have to be honest, Madge. I have no idea what we're going to do."

"Me either"

"Well, then. Eight at the meadow it is, and we can… talk… about stuff," he forces out, "Now, can I finally rest?" I smile slightly.

"Sure," I walk across the grass and turn around, my feet still moving. He's just looking at me. He actually waited for me to leave this time before he went in the house. "You sure you'll be there?"

"Yeah"

It takes me nearly a half an hour to get back home, but I feel better already. A little, giddy even, though I don't let it show. I don't know why, but the prospect of having something to look forward to puts me in a good mood. Likely, it's because I haven't had anything to look forward to in a while. I already feel a little less lonely. I might be getting too excited about this. He surely didn't seem excited. I didn't want him to feel obligated. Well, if I didn't want that, then I shouldn't have insisted on pushing the idea. Still, I don't let the thought bother me too much. I get prepared for bed, for the new leaf that tomorrow might bring and whatever may come from it.

I don't have any nightmares.


	6. Chapter 6

I decide to get to the meadow a little early. I brought along a backpack filled with a couple of flashlights, a jacket, a pocket watch and a little kitchen knife. I'm not sure what I'll use that for, but I brought it anyway. The sunlight is sending out the very last of its gleams for the day, casting a dark blue and purple hue across the sky. My father was surprisingly home when I left. I told him that I was going to hang out with a couple of girls from school. I probably shouldn't have lied, and it might not have even mattered to him anyway. But, I didn't want to chance it. I could almost hear it already.

I remember the last time that I tried to hang out with Whillam Leakly, who was a very sweet guy, alone at his home a couple of years ago. It was simply a friendly visit, nothing more. Whillam was about three years older than me, and very handsome, too, so I can only imagine what wrongfully went through my father's mind. Despite knowing him and his parents, my father had very words to say about that idea

"You're going where? With who? I think not. You're going upstairs. That's where you're going."

Yes, it's best that he doesn't know. He has next to no idea who Gale even is, so unfamiliarity seems like it would fare worse. Of course, now that Whillam is married, he's invited over my house all the time. Maybe I should just befriend married men.

I sit cross-legged in the grass. It's grown quite tall in this patch since the last that I'd been here with Katniss. Sitting down, it's coming up to my waist. I pull a long stalk of grass out and start peeling each individual blade off as I wait. I think it's a nervous habit of mine to pull at grass. I'm about nine stalks in when I see him walking up to me. I can't deny that I'm a little surprised that he actually showed up. He hasn't been home to change clothes yet, I see. He yet again looks tired, but not as tired as he usually does. As he walks up to where I am, I suddenly feel nervous all over again. I watch him silently as he makes his way to sit on a large boulder next to me.

"You're early," he says.

"Well, I didn't have anything else to do. I thought I might as well come down here." He nods in agreement. Silence.

This reminds me of when Katniss and I first started hanging out. It was right after the games last year. I convinced her of it, but she seemed to have the same idea anyway. We traded off between each others' houses for a while, doing nothing of any importance. We would make small talk about things at school and food at the Capitol that she ate. I always wanted to know about the dresses that she got to wear, because they looked so beautiful on television. However, it appeared to be more than a chore for her to relive anything fashion-related. Neither of us have ever been the biggest talkers, so it was hard to get a lengthy conversation going. But, I knew that there was one thing that she and I could both talk about; something that I hadn't really talked about with anyone.

"That was a really pretty bow that you had in the arena."

"Yeah, it was pretty, but it just didn't feel the same. It was a bit too stiff, harder to handle at first. I like my bow much better."

"Oh, I didn't know that there was a particular way that it had to feel."

"If it's crafted a certain way, it shoots easier, like mine. They focused much more on how it looked than how it shot when they made it. It's kind of hard to explain. You can tell when you hold it, though."

"What about those plants you used? How did you know so much about them?"

"Part of it was seeing my mother using them and my father teaching me, but you pick up a lot about that kind of stuff actually being in the woods."

"It must be really interesting out in the woods. You can learn so much; how to shoot, which plants do what. I've always wondered what was out there. You know, outside of the little that they speak of in class. It's like a new world just on the other side of the fence. Who am I kidding, though? I'd just be a mess if I tried to go out there alone." _Is she getting it_, I wondered. She looked like she was thinking about it, then a light bulb went off.

"Maybe you can come out there with me next time. Gale's always in the mines, so I usually go out there alone now. I can show you all the things I learned. If you want to shoot, you can use my bow, and I'll use Gale's. I'm used to his too, anyway."

After that our friendship came easily. We realized that we had quite even more in common than we thought, despite being so different. But, Gale, he's being much more closed-off than she ever was. A couple of coughs break his silence, but other than that, there isn't really much there. It's completely dark out, too. The air is still warm, though. No need for my jacket tonight.

"It's very warm still," I say.

Is that it? Is that all I'm able to muster? A vague comment about the temperature? Well, this is turning out to be a riveting conversation.

"It's usually like this during this time of year."

"Yes, you're right. I'm not really out much, so I wouldn't know. When I used to go in the woods with Katniss, it was much colder. I would be freezing sometimes, but she was pretty much used to it." He looks genuinely confused. What did I say this time?

"You went out to the woods?"

"Mmhm, Katniss would bring me out every now and then last fall. She was just showing me the ropes."

"Hmm," is all he says at first, "How long were you guys doing that?"

"Oh, about three or four months during the weekdays, after I got out of school. I can see why you guys went out there so much. It's a lot of fun."

"We didn't just go out there for fun," Oh, great, not again, "We went out there for food, so we didn't starve."

"I didn't mean it like that," I sigh, "I meant that she seemed so comfortable and happy in the woods. Like she was really alive out there. I figured it was the same for you, too."

"Yeah," he replies, letting his defenses down, "I used to tell her the same thing. That's what made it worse when they sealed it off. She took it personal. _I_ took it personal. That was really the only thing we had, and they took that away."

The only thing they had? What does he mean by that? He stops himself and changes the subject.

"So, she taught you about the woods and stuff?"

"Yep, she taught me about plants and how to shoot," I say proudly.

"Really," he says, not really believing me.

"She taught me about how to hold the bow," I raise my arms in perfect shooting fashion, "You have to keep our elbow facing out, angle the bow at a forty-five degree angle, like this, but you have to aim at your target before you draw the bow back."

"Nice form"

"What? I'm not supposed to know how to shoot a bow and arrow?"

"It's a little weird, I have to admit."

"Well, you know technically, you're not supposed to know how to shoot either. It's against _the law_," I say sarcastically. I cringe, waiting for him to snap at me again, but he doesn't. He actually cracks a smile. It makes me grin, too. "You smiled"

"So?"

"Nothing, I'm just not used to it." He huffs and looks away. I snicker, and we go back to not talking. I glance at my pocket watch. Eight forty-five. It's really been only forty-five minutes?

"What have you been doing since school let out," he asks as if he feels obligated to further the conversation.

"Oh, I do what I normally do. I stay around the house and play the piano a bit. The other day I went into a couple of stores in town. That's about as much as I've accomplished thus far." He mumbles something under his breath. "What was that?"

"I said I forgot that you played the piano."

"Yes, it's how I pass most of my time. I tried to teach Katniss. She… didn't quite catch on," I laugh, "She tried, though. Truly, she did."

We talk off and on for a bit longer about nothing. It's mostly me asking random questions and him giving me as much of an answer as he can come up with for each of them. After some time more, I check my watch again. Nine-thirty. He's done his civic duty. There's no need to hold him any longer. I make up an excuse, saying that my father told me to be home by that time.

"I'm going to stay here for now," he says.

Puzzled, I figure that it's best not to ask. I wave goodnight, and I'm on my way, leaving him sitting alone on the rock. Nearly every light is off in the Seam. I'm not sure if it's because of the time or if the electricity went out again. I turn my flash light on, though. Once I get to the square, I turn it off thanks to the street lights illuminating the sidewalks. I'm surprised that there aren't any Peacekeepers patrolling the area for suspicious wanderers like me. Good thing, though. It gives me time to think.

_That didn't go too bad_, I say to myself.

Who am I kidding? Awkward is an understatement. After analyzing every single thing that I said, I can't manage to get past the embarrassment. He's clearly even more uncomfortable around me than I thought he was. Any conversation that I had with him previously was quick and accompanied by Katniss, and therefore she did most of the little talking that occurred. Well, today did serve its purpose. I don't feel so bad anymore. As a matter of fact I feel much better. So much better that I'm sure that we won't have any reason to meet up again. I feel great.

The next day is a very hot Sunday. It's much too hot for me to want to go anywhere. My mother is feeling decent, but her headaches kept her up most of the night before. She still wanted some medicine to get to sleep. With that keeping her out and nothing else to do, I pull out my sheet music. I'm not much up for playing a fast song, but not a sad one either. That forces me to put about five songs aside. But, there is one piece of music. It happens to be my favorite piece. The song is meant for a waltz, but it's played so high that it always resembled wind chimes to me.

I take my place at the piano and begin to play. It automatically puts me in a strange mood. It's not chipper, but it's not bad. Nostalgic, maybe. I have wonderful memories attached to this song. I've played it so many times, that I can play it by ear. I shut my eyes and hum along with the music. As I finish it up, I hear a beating at the door. I'm immediately ripped out of my daydream and stop playing.

I answer the door. To my surprise, my visitor stands tall and intimidating save for the small white sweater that he's carrying.

"Hello… Gale."

"You left this last night," he says holding out the garment, "My mom washed it."

"Oh, thank you." I notice that he looks hot, much too hot to hike all the way back at this time of day.

"Um, would you like to come in?"

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A/N: Just in case anyone is wondering, the song she's playing is based off of "Once Upon A December" by Deana Carter from Anastasia. I love that song. I heard it played on the piano (played in a higher pitch), and loved it even more. It's such a beautiful song.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: The best thing about being out of school for the summer and not starting work yet? I've got plenty of time to update my stories! lol. Like I was saying before, I have just about most of this story written already, so I'm using my free time to write in the gaps. Yay! Thanks a bunch to you guys who are reviewing! I didn't even expect reviews for this (never do. lol), so I appreciate the heck out of them. And thanks for the faves and alerts, as well!

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"I'm not sure that's going to help any," he says cocking his head back, slightly.

I peek around his shoulder to see Mrs. Seedles in her yard. What was likely her usual activity of watering her herb garden has now turned into her latest snooping fest. Next door to her, Mrs. Kidsen is sitting at her window, peering questionably in our direction. My family doesn't even speak much to them, but apparently familiarity with someone is not a requirement on their list of who to gossip about. I'm sure that a young miner coming to bring the mayor's daughter a piece of clothing that she left will be the next gossip topic of choice for them; as if they needed any more gossip.

"Oh, they are just ridiculous," I roll my eyes, "I only wondered because it's really hot outside."

He contemplates it for a minute and turns his head to give my neighbors a threatening look. It must have worked because the curtains of the Kidsen house swing shut, and Mrs. Seedles returns to tending to her garden. He steps in, and I flash a smirk to the nosy residents. Mrs. Seedles scoffs, offended, and goes back in her house. I'm quite content, so I close my door, walking right into Gale as I turn around. He stands near the door. That must be some kind of defense mechanism for him when he's around me. With his hands casually in his pockets, he takes quick glances around the living room. I walk around him and across the entrance way.

"You're welcome to come further than the doorway, if you'd like. I'm sure you want some water," I call to him as I go to the kitchen.

"Yeah, sounds good."

I return with a glass of ice water to find that he still hasn't moved much further in. He is acting more like he's in a museum of fragile art than someone's home. He's examining a decorated porcelain vase on the wall. I hold my breath as he touches it because my mother would be out for blood if she realized that her favorite wedding gift was destroyed. Luckily, he sees me and instantly draws his hand back. I give him the glass.

"It was a gift for my mother when she got married. Her mother gave it to her. As you can imagine it's been in our family for some time. She never lets a thing happen to it. She won't even let you think about it for fear that somehow even that'll break it," I laugh. He nods his head and takes a gulp. He nearly downs half of it just that fast.

"It looks expensive"

"Perhaps, but it's more likely that a relative made it. We have many craftsmen of all sorts in my family."

Another gulp of water.

"So, you came all the way over here for _just for that_," I mock him, pointing at my sweater.

"I was in the area," he jokes.

"Oh, of course." I'm surprising myself with my suddenly cheerful demeanor. He seems as if he's in a fair mood as well, so that's a good thing.

"Was that you playing earlier?"

"Yes, I was bored. I didn't know that you'd heard. Had you been knocking for long? I apologize if you had."

"No," he says as he walked over to the piano, still moving cautiously, "It sounded nice."

Was that a compliment? I'm always wary, because I can never quite tell with him. He hasn't added any snide remark, so I assume that it was. Hm, that was unexpected.

"Thank you," I stand near him as he looks over the large instrument, "It's my favorite song. It has words, but I'm not much of a singer. Well, not a singer at all, so I play it instead."

"How do you read this?" He picks up the music and looks at it as if the notes started jumping up and running around the page.

"With entirely too much practice. My parents thought it would be a good skill to have. I loved listening to it but hated learning it. Now, I love it all, though."

"I see why Katniss couldn't get it." He freezes up for a second after saying her name. I bite my lip, hoping that he hasn't triggered any unpleasant thoughts for himself.

"It balanced out, though," I begin, scrambling to lighten the mood, "I actually can't really shoot very well. One time, I somehow managed to almost hit myself. Apparently, it's impossible to do that, so I'm not quite sure how that happened."

"That's pretty bad, Madge," he laughs.

"Hey, I was trying!"

He taps a few of the keys in no particular order. Seeing his fingers against the keys, I never noticed that he has musician hands. Long, strong fingers that are still light on the touch. If my mother saw him, she'd immediately force him into piano lessons.

"You have good piano hands," I blurt out without thinking.

"What does _that_ mean?"

"It just means that your hands are good for playing. Your fingers are long enough to get good key strokes in." He looks at me with a quizzical expression. "You should learn to play someday."

"Not gonna work on me. You can't try and teach everybody how to play the piano."

"It was worth a shot," I shrug with an innocent smile.

He looks on the ground near the piano stool and picks up a piece of paper. He's quite inquisitive today, I think to myself.

"I think this is for you." He hands over the paper. It's a note from my father:

_Don't forget to pick up the shoes before five today._

_Love, Dad _

"Oh, dear! I completely forgot! It's after four-thirty now!"

"I was going to head back home anyway. I have to help my mom watch the kids."

"Do you mind if I walk back with you? I have to leave now if I want to get there in time."

"Uh, sure"

We get into town with a little under ten minutes till closing time. It probably has much to do with the fact that I was all but sprinting the whole way, ignoring the heat, and leaving Gale in my dusted tracks. The shoemaker is starting to close up by the time we reach his store.

"Wait," I yell as I run to the door, "Do you have a pair of shoes for 'Undersee'?"

"I thought you weren't coming today." He goes back inside and grabs a box near the door. "Here you go. It's already paid for. Have a nice evening."

"You, too," I gasp for air, shoving the box under my arm.

The running is catching up to me now. I hunch over and put my hands on my knees, struggling to breathe. The box slides out and hits the floor. The shoes come toppling out in front of me. I drop to the ground and pick them up rubbing out the scruff marks. As I place the shoes back in, my hand accidentally knocks up the bottom of the box. However, upon closer inspection, I see that the inside lining is deliberately set to come off. I lift the flap a bit to see a folded piece of paper underneath. It's not meant for my eyes; anyone's eyes for that matter, except for my father's. The shoemaker, too? Sensing Gale approaching, I quickly slide the compartment back and close the box's lid.

"I don't think I've seen someone run that fast in a while, Madge."

"Well, I got here in time didn't I," I chime cheerfully, being sure not to alarm him.

"I think I'm going to stop by the grocer and pick up something for my mom." The grocer is only a few of blocks ahead, and I don't feel like walking back yet. I ponder for a minute. Before I ask, he already beats me to it.

"You want to come, too, huh?"

"I've done my task for the day," I say tapping the shoe box, "I have no other plans, as usual."

We walk towards the shop. For some reason, maybe because of the tension-free surroundings, conversation comes a little easier today. He'll make an observation about something, or I'll have a story about places and people we see on the way. For example, we pass the town butcher, Elden Noble. I'm never one for gossip, but I tell Gale about how the poor man's wife has no idea that he intends on leaving her for the old locksmith's young new wife.

"I hear a lot when people come over to speak to my parents. I'm just quiet enough that I generally keep it to myself."

"Except for now?"

"Yes, except for now," I smile.

We still have moments of silence, but they aren't as painfully aggravating as they were before. He also seems to not feel as pressured as I made him feel before. That makes him much less guarded. I do want to ask him something that I've been wondering.

"Um, can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead." I hesitate before going on.

"You used call her 'Catnip.' I remember her telling me that before. But, you haven't called her that recently. Why?"

"Well, she's not here, so it doesn't really matter what I call her." His voice offers a twinge of anger.

"I think it does. It helps keep things normal."

"Things _aren't_ normal."

"I know, but I think it should be all right to refer to her normally."

"It's not a big deal," he fires back.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up."

"It's all right, Madge," he sighs. He sounds like he actually means it.

Just as we're about to come upon the grocer, we hear the sound of someone yelling. A man, a miner, is being dragged in handcuffs by three Peacekeepers. The man can't be too much older than Gale. I'd say that he could be in his late twenties. His dark hair is tied back and his clothes are damaged and dusty. There is red paint on his shirt forming a number.

"13"

I look up at Gale, who seems to be trying to sort out the situation. People on the streets either turn away or have disappeared into buildings. They're just going to ignore it, I see. He's resisting the men, but he has certainly not backed down from his preaching.

"It doesn't matter what you do to me! This will all fall! This system will fall! There will never be another '13' again! The tyranny is over this time… We will prevail! We will prevail!" A Peacekeeper jams him in the stomach with the butt of his gun, instantly winding the man. He still doesn't stop, though. As he is walked past us, he speaks again with garbled words.

"Kill me, I don't care. There are many more like me. This won't end until it's over. Until this regime is dead. We have the Mockingjay!"

The same Peacekeeper punches him in the face with a rock hard fist. Blood spews from his mouth, and he appears to have spit out a tooth, as well. Gale inches forward with his hands clinched, but I hold him back by his arm. No sense in ending up the same way as that man. Not today. They drag his unconscious body through the streets and around a corner. I'm certain that's the last that I'll ever see of the man. I feel the tension in Gale's arm go down, so I let go. His jaw is sealed tightly.

"I'm going home." He marches ahead. I walk forward.

"Did you know him, Gale?"

"Do I have to _know_ him in order to be upset," he yells. It stops me in my place. He glares at me and walks away.

I'm left to wonder what's going through his mind. It's the same feeling I had at the reaping ceremony. I'm only left to hope that he keeps his calm, and doesn't try anything. I look down at the shoe box. What is in this piece of paper? I duck into a nearby alley way, and open the box again. I pull out the letter and unfold it. It's just a bunch of jotted notes:

_- Dress is complete_

_- Eight days with today_

_- Failure in 8_

_- Attempt in 4_

_- Attempt in 11_

_- Attempt in 7_

I can't sort anything out, because my mind is still boggled by the rebel. One thing is for certain, though. Something is happening on a much larger scale than I thought. I need to know what is going on. I need to know what pieces are missing. No more hiding anything from my father, because he isn't going to hide anything from me anymore. I have to confront him.


	8. Chapter 8

There is a small trail of blood on the streets in front of the Justice Building and leading around the back. That's where the prisoners are held. I make my way up the front stairs and inside. Even though there was the commotion of the man's arrest in town, the rooms and hall ways are silent. A few Peacekeepers walk around in packs. Their numbers seem to grow every day. It's nauseating. A couple of the men wink at me as they pass by, jabbing each other in the side and whispering. Yes, they're giving these jobs to any fool they can find, so long as they keep the number of uniformed men higher than the amount of people willing to fight.

I walk up the creaky, wooden stairs. As I run my hand up the banister, a piece of it splits nearly giving me a splinter. This place is simply falling apart. My father's office is on the second floor. Down a corridor I go until I hear the sound of his voice. Of course he's not alone. The Head Peacekeeper is there, speaking in a deep, ominous voice.

"Yes,_ sir_," he adds a condescending emphasis on the title, "That makes five this week. All to be dealt with properly."

"Is it so much to ask that I actually be informed of these things, Romulus?"

"It is only for the protection of all that _these things_ are carried out swiftly, so there is never any time to inform."

"That's all for now. You are excused."

"Thank you, Mayor Undersee."

He comes out of the office and walks past me. I haven't seen him up close before. Anytime I unfortunately think about Gale being whipped, I only imagine Thread from a distance. My thoughts are usually occupied with the heartbreaking sight of Gale. But, he's more frightening up close and in person. His low-cut, white hair and comes down in a "v" at the center of his hairline. His eyes are cold, and his overpowering height is nothing short of sinister. He easily clears me from his walkway as I stand, staring with my back against the wall. He flashes a cruel smirk and scoffs conceitedly at me, before leaving. Once I shake my head and bring myself back, I enter the office. He's sitting at the desk signing papers.

"Dad?" I knock lightly on the doorway.

"Hello, honey," he says without raising his eyes, "What brings you here?"

"I brought your shoes." He pops his head up.

"Thank you. I needed those." I sit down with the box in my lap. He seems puzzled by the way I'm acting. "Is everything all right? Your mother is okay, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is," I inhale deeply before I pry further, "Something is going on."

"What is?"

"I know, Dad," I say in a low whisper.

"You know what? What are you talking about, Madge."

I tap the bottom of the shoebox. It takes him a moment to register what I'm speaking of, but he soon gets it. He gives me a stern look, but I don't flinch. He stands up and walks over to the close the door. I'm just waiting for him say his usual "It's nothing for you to worry about." _Not this time, Dad_, I think. He walks around the desk again and looks out of the window behind it.

"What is it that you know, Madge?"

"I know about you and mom and the rebels."

"For how long?"

"Well before the games last year. I knew that's why you made me give her the pin, so you could alert the…"

"Other districts. Yes," he pauses and turns around, "You're seventeen now. I may not always see it, but you are nearly grown. You're older enough to know about rebels and revolts. But, you've _been_ old enough to see the wrongs in the society. Ever since you were a child, you were old enough to see that. Kids starving to death before they even enter school. And, if they're so unfortunate enough that they reach the age of twelve, they spend the next six years being forced to put themselves up for death just so the viewers can be appeased. Just so no one has a thought about rising up again. Sure, you make it past the reapings ages. Think you're in the clear because you're nineteen and over. But, what does it matter when you know that it only means that your children will soon enter the same vicious cycle?"

I don't know what to say. Even being used to him saying these things, the hurt in his words today is tangible. I'm thankful that the walls are sound proof. He closes the curtains and sits down in his chair.

"My family, they didn't see anything wrong. They never cared two ways about anything. The Donners, though. They've always had a problem with it. You should know that. They've hated it for years. It only got worse when your mother's sister died in the games. They see the injustice, and they experienced it first-hand. That's why your mother joined me and the others. Seventy-five years is too long for all of this."

He's not speaking to me like his young daughter anymore; I'm not young to him. He's speaking to me as if I'm an equal.

"I took this position to communicate with the other districts. I've been working with others for some time now. In the past, our efforts have failed for one reason or another. We couldn't organize enough, or we weren't prepared for setbacks. But now, we know what to expect."

"How long have you been doing this?"

"Ten years"

I think back to times when I was a little girl in our old house. The same friends of my parents that would come by then were the same ones to visit now. How innocent I used to think their visits were back then. They smiled at me, complimented me, commented on how much older I was getting. So normal. I hadn't any clue of the hazardous words that were exchanged. It was much easier to hide that from an eight-year-old. Not as easy with a fourteen-year-old who realizes that something is amiss.

"What is this letter about?" I hand it to him, and he reads it.

"Madge, your snooping and eavesdropping is really becoming a problem," he says looking over his glasses at me. He does that when he's crossed with me, but how else am I supposed to know anything? No one tells "little Madge" a thing.

"I'm sorry. I know it's not right to. But, I just wanted to know what was going on. And, today, that man was a rebel. He had a '13' painted on him." His ears perk up again, and his eyebrows crease.

"What did he say about '13'?"

"He was just saying that it won't happen again, because the rebels will win this time." He exhales deeply.

"The note is from the Capitol."

"The Capitol?"

"There are allies across Panem, Madge. Some you'd never dream of. The Capitol is no exception."

Who could he possibly have working in the Capitol? They hardly care about the state of any districts _unless_ the district is trying to rebel. And, they're certainly not coming to their aid. Maybe if it was District 1 who needed their jewel-making equipment repaired. Or, if the mayor of District 2, heaven forbid, got a paper cut. The Capitol would make haste with their efforts to shower them with help and riches. But, the lowly District 12, full of merchants and coal miners? How did my father manage to gain their support? "Hello, President Snow. I'm the mayor of District 12, and I would like to enlist the help of your citizens in overthrowing the government. Can you help me?" I highly doubt that. I wonder if Gale knows about all of this.

"The miners, are they working with you, too?"

"No, they have no idea of our efforts, and we know little about theirs until it happens. They're intent on fighting upfront, which isn't the best thing to do. It's what happened before in District 13, and it doesn't work. Brute-force strength isn't all that's required for a rebellion, and they hardly even have that. You have to work on the inside when you're outnumbered. Go along with it until it's time to fight. They're setting us back."

"How? They're on your side."

"That's true, but them drawing too much attention to themselves is drawing too much attention to our district as a whole. Now, everything that anyone does is viewed as suspicious and can potentially get you arrested. That's what went wrong in 8."

_Failure in 8_

"That's what the note said."

He explains the note to me. Although the initial rebellion in 8 was unsuccessful, other uprisings are beginning to mobilize while 8 regroups. He doesn't tell me what "the dress" means or anything about Katniss and Peeta. I don't pester him anymore. I think of what is to come in the near future. Though, I always knew that these days were coming, I had never fathomed that it could have escalated so quickly. All this time, I thought that we were the only ones still attempting. They _could_ do it this time. It could actually work.

"What do you want me to do?" He gives me a shocked glare.

"Excuse me?"

"I want to help you."

"No"

"But, I have as much of a reason as you do."

"No, you don't, and you won't get mixed up in anything we do," he says becoming more angered.

"Why can't…"

"Because, I don't want you knowing too much! If something goes wrong and we're arrested, they'll hold you as accountable as us if you know anything. If you don't, you're safer. You will not be held captive on our account. I will _never_ let that happen!"

I stare at him, wide-eyed. He's very passionate about me not helping, and honestly, he could be right. The Capitol can arrest me, but, in my father's mind, they will see that I don't know anything and let me go. Somehow still, I feel like that is an idealized thought. They would just let me go? It's never that easy.

"I don't have to tell you to that this is between us. It is of the utmost importance that you do not speak to a single person about this besides your mother and me. No one, at all." That's his way of telling me to leave.

"I understand." He leads me to the door, and I hug him tightly. After kissing me on the forehead, he sends me on my way.

Back in the main entry way, I stand at the balcony of the staircase and overlook the room. Groups of Peacekeepers still litter the space. Soldiers of cruelty. They have no idea of the true intentions of the man they work for. For a moment, I smirk in satisfaction, but then something hits me. These people don't work for my father. Not anymore. They may pretend to, but they don't listen to him. They answer to Thread. They answer to the Capitol. Those are the only voices that matter. It makes me worry about what could happen if my parents are caught. Would they band together to protect him from the Capitol's vengeance? No, they're more likely to be right beside them as they punish my parents and their allies.

"Good talk with your father, Miss Undersee?"

My blood runs cold when I hear him. Thread stands eerily in back of me. I didn't even hear him come up. His hands are casually placed in his pockets. It makes me wonder what he has in them. How did he know that I was still here? He moves to stand next to me at the banister, and surveys the scene.

"Yes, just a little chat," I smile, shielding my fear and hatred, "He's been here all day, so I hadn't even gotten to see him.

"He _is_ quite busy," he flashes that terrifying smile again, "No fear, though. We get hundreds of Peacekeepers here regularly to help Mayor Undersee control his district. We can hunt down any and every threat and destroy it before it even has time to blink. That's what we're here to do. That's what we're trained to do. Your father is in good hands, Madge Undersee."

"Thank you, sir. That is a wonderful thing to know." The words taste like acid as they painfully leave my mouth. "You're doing an excellent job."

"Thank _you_. As far as the rebel traitors go, you have nothing to worry about there either. We have a list of suspects already and intend on dealing with them accordingly soon." I have to catch my breath quickly. I look at him, and he's staring me down.

"That's good," I say jovially.

"Well, Miss Undersee, there's work to be done. It was good to get to speak with you," he says, placing a hand on my shoulder, "Come visit again."

"Certainly. You have a nice day." He nods and walks off down another hallway. My heart pounds out of my chest. I don't drop my calm appearance. That's what he's waiting for. Instead, I leave before I'm unable to keep up my front.

I open the door of the Justice Building with too much on my mind. And, it didn't help to see Gale sitting alone on the front steps. I'm surprised that Peacekeepers haven't forced him away. He must not have been here for very long. Knowing that Thread was so close inside makes me want Gale to leave as soon as possible. I don't know why. I just feel scared for him. Maybe I'm more haunted than I thought. He still looks angry. I stand in front of him, still maintaining normalcy.

"Did you need something," I ask.

"Figured you'd be here"

"Me?"

"Look, sorry 'bout that back there. I didn't mean to yell at you."

"It's okay," I say, "You were upset. I knew you weren't mad at me. Are you sure you want to be sitting out here like this?"

"I don't see why I can't."

"I was just asking. _I'm_ about to go home now, though." I'm tired. I can't deal with being at this building anymore.

"So, the meadow tomorrow night?" I turn back, bewildered.

"You still want to meet up with me?"

"Do _you_? You made it seem like you wanted to make it a regular thing." Is he serious? I had to pull his teeth to get him to talk to me, let alone meet with me. Now, _he's_ initaling things? So fickle.

"Sure," I say shrugging my shoulders and mimicking his nonchalant attitude. There's a faint sight of his elusive smile again.

"Good. There's something I found last night. I want to show you."

What?

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**A/N:** Katniss has President Snow. Madge has Head Peacekeeper Thread. I'm making myself hate this guy even more. lol.

Thanks for reading this!

Next chapter is just about finished. Coming up soon :)


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Thanks again for the reviews and faves and alerts, you guys! It means a lot! :D

This chapter is a chunky monkey! I guess I just had a lot to say. lol. It is building more on Madge and Gale's friendship and stuff.

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I can't believe it. He actually beat me here. Even more, he had time to get out of his mining clothes and into regular ones. I glance at my pocket watch. I guess I am later than usual. My mother insisted on cooking, but her head ache nearly caused her to collapse on the floor. I opted to finish dinner and helped her settle back in her bed. I don't know why she felt the need to apologize to me. She can't help her health, and I would never hold it against her.

So, after that, I'd almost forgotten that I was supposed to come out here. I threw a pair of jeans on, brown sandals and a flowy, white shirt with short puffy sleeves. Why I felt the need to dress up is beyond me. Although it is my favorite shirt, I rarely grab it unless it's for a special occasion. Approaching Gale, who is only wearing jeans and a plain, dark blue t-shirt, I feel over-dressed. He gets up and waits for me to get closer. I can see his expression, even from a distance. He looks like he's has a proud face. He must have found something pretty good.

"Come here," he says heading towards the fence.

_Please?_, I think, but I don't say anything.

I walk behind him. The buzzing is so loud once you get up close. Did they increase the voltage or something? Why are we going towards it? He looks so sure of wherever we're going. Once we reach the fence, he looks down the stretch and takes a right. His eyes search around. After a couple of minutes of walking in silence, he stops and puts his ear near to a portion of the structure. He kneels down, and his hand hovers as close as it can to the fence. Once he reaches a corner section, his hand stops and he nods his head. He looks up at me and hits the back of his hand up against that portion.

"Gale, no!" I leap forward to stop him from electrocuting himself to death. But, I stop short when I realize that he's fine. Nothing happened to him. What?

"It's not electrified."

"What are you talking about? I can hear it," I ask, still panicked.

"Not this part. There's a section right around here that isn't electric. Look."

I crouch down at his level and hold my hand out like he is. He's… he's right. You can't even hear the buzzing on this part. It's turned off somehow.

"You can feel the current on the whole rest of the fence, except for right here. And see," he says pointing down, "Someone has clipped these sides, so you can pull it back."

I'm in awe. Though it's only been back on for a few months, it's hard to remember when I could touch the fence without any fear. I carefully run my fingers over the section. I start to move my hand up some, but Gale quickly grabs it back.

"That part_ is_ electrified."

"Oh, thanks."

"I'm guessing that it's only this area." He traces his finger in a large shape. "It's big enough for a grown man to get through."

"Where do you think it came from?"

"Isn't it obvious? Someone was trying to escape. Or maybe they already did. Either way this was deliberate."

"How did they do it?"

"I have no idea. I've never seen anything like this. Someone managed to disable an electric current without disrupting the whole thing. Then they got it in a shape of their choosing. I don't understand it at all. This wasn't done by just anyone."

Even he can't hide the excitement in his voice. He starts to fiddle with the bottom of the section. I can't quite tell what he's doing until I hear the sound of him pulling the wires back. At first he makes quite a bit of noise, but he corrects himself quickly and slowly pulls it up.

"Hold this," he commands.

"You're_ not_ going under there."

"Why not?"

"What do you mean? Are you crazy? One, someone could see you. And two, you don't know what could be out there in the dark. All sorts of animals waiting to…"

"The animals learned to stay away from the fence a long time ago. They're much further in," he scoffs, "All I have to do is stay close. And, it's dark, the lights are out again. Who's going to see me? They might see _you_, though."

"This is a terrible idea, Gale."

"Well then, lift the fence for me and get back to your house before you're caught. Or, you can keep watch for me. I've been waiting for months to get back out there. I'm going."

I sigh, unwilling to argue with his thick skull anymore, and hold the fence back. It's very hard to keep it up. He squeezes his way through and stands up on the other side. I can hardly see him anymore through the thick vegetation. Not even the bright light of the full moon shows clearly on the forest. He was certainly right. No one will see him more than ten feet in. He walks up to the trees and touches the bark, touches the moss and runs his fingers over the leaves. You'd swear that someone had turned a child loose in the toy store, promising them whatever they wanted in it.

I look around, waiting to hear the dreadful sound of a deep "Hey!" followed by a barrage of Peacekeepers descending upon me. Gale would be fine nestled behind the fence. He would have ample time to take off into the woods, never to be heard from again, while I'm being chased for miles screaming my head off. I look at the fence and think of the only way to make my delinquent behavior worse. Bending down low, I try to pull the gate up and slide under at the same time. Head first? No. What about my arm? No. Leg? Gale sees me struggling.

"You're coming under?"

"Of course I am, but this is an absolutely terrible idea. I don't like it one bit," I say as I try to stick my leg through.

He holds back the fence, much higher than I could manage, and I slide under on my stomach. This was absolutely the wrong outfit to wear. I dust myself off and look to the district behind me. There is something different about the feeling out here. It's more liberating. I never noticed how much so until now. I feel like all of my problems are on the other side of the fence, and I'm far away from them now. Still, the reality of it all is that this is a bad situation to be in if we're spotted. Gale passes me and heads deeper into the darkness. What else can I do but follow him?

"Did I mention that this is a terrible idea? We are going to get caught. I know we are. Someone is going to see us and we'll get arrested and… Oh, I can't even say it."

"Then _don't_," he grumbles under his breath. I suppose that I am overreacting, but I don't need to give the Peacekeepers any more reason to keep watch over my family.

"I'm sorry, but can't I be a little nervous? Where are we going anyway?"

"I'm getting my bow."

"Why? It's too dark to see… Agh!"

I trip over a large tree root, sticking out of the ground and land face-first in the dirt. My back pack flips up and hits me in the back of the head. Shooting a glare back at the root, something catches in the faint light. Something is carved into it; an "X." As I squint more, I see an "X" on a tree behind us and a couple of more ahead of us and to the sides of us. Gale finally realizes that I'm not in tow anymore and stops.

"Madge?"

"Look at this. There are X's carved in the trees. You guys didn't do these, did you?" He examines them further and shakes his head. "It looks like there are some ahead, too. What if they lead somewhere?"

"If it's supposed to lead anywhere then they must not know where it is. These are all too scattered to be a trail. I'll see where these go," he heads in one direction of X's.

"No! We don't know who made it. It could easily be a trap."

"Fine then," he says after a long thinking pause.

We veer off away from the X's. Using his keen memory, he's able to locate and dig up his bow and some arrows. But, maybe his memory had failed him, because when he sees Katniss' bow as well, he just stares at it, sadly. I wait for him to acknowledge it, but he doesn't. He throws the dirt back over it, and he's off. He stops once we're a few hundred yards in. It's a large, grassy hill. The trees are scattered enough in this area that the moonlight fills the space. I recognize this place. It's where Katniss brought me to practice shooting. It must've been their spot, too. I take a seat while he stands up a draws his arrow back.

"What are you trying to shoot?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to hold it again. Something about the way it feels… I needed to feel that again."

"Oh, like a security blanket?"

"A what?"

"Nothing." That's embarrassing. I can't liken a guy like Gale to anything as childish as a security blanket. He sinks an arrow in a nearby tree. Perfect. "Do you mind if I try?"

"Be my guest." I get the bow and an arrow from him.

He takes a seat behind me. All right, it's time to prove that I actually learned something from Katniss. I shouldn't be nervous. I've hit stuff before. Not too often, but I can try and do it again. I place the bow on the arrow. I keep the tree in my line of sight and focus. Once I get a good eye on my target, I lift the bow and aim. Pulling the arrow back on the string, I can't help but feel powerful. There _is_ a rush you get by just holding the weapon. Ready to shoot. It happens so quickly, though.

"Ow!"

One second, I'm holding the arrow. The next, I'm poking my eye out with the tail end of it. I had pulled back fast on the arrow instead of letting it go. I don't even know why. All, I know is that I let out a yelp and drop everything. It hurts so badly! I clutch my hands over my eye groaning and stumbling around. I'm just about sure that I'll be blind.

"What happened," Gale questions as he runs up to me. I hide my face, as my eye is starting to tear up.

"I poked myself in the eye."

"How did you do that?" Oh, that just makes it worse. Now, he thinks I'm an idiot, and a skilled one at that.

"I don't know," I groan again, "This is the same thing that happened last time." Only it hurts much worse.

"Last time?"

"I told you that only I will find a way to shoot myself with a bow and arrow." He laughs. I should be mad that he's laughing at me, but I can't blame him. I laugh, too.

"Let me see." He reaches out to me, but I turn my face away.

"No, I think I'm bleeding!"

"Come on."

He grabs my chin and moves my face up. Caught off guard, I gasp and drop my hands. He lets the moon hit my face and looks around the injured area. His eyes inspect the damage. They're much different than I thought they were, his eyes. I can't tell if it's due to the moon light, but they're a brighter shade than Katniss'. They have a different shape to them as well. They're very… pretty.

"You're not bleeding," he says.

"It sure does hurt."

"Well, I don't think it's even gonna bruise." I bend down and pick up the bow and arrow.

"Here you go. Take it. I don't want to shoot you next time."

"Good call"

Sitting out for a while isn't so bad. We're talking this time. I tell him about all of my mishaps in the woods. Getting my hair stuck in a branch. Almost eating poisonous berries. I even show him many of my battle scars from trying to climb in the trees. He's amused by them. I make sure to make no mention of the rebel we saw or my running into Thread. There's a good feeling with us right now. I don't want to mess it up. After much of my prying, he tells me about traps and snares. I didn't know that so much went into them. And, he knows every aspect of them, too. I listen to him intently, still holding my hand over my pained eye.

"You have to show me how to make them someday."

"Why do you have such an interest in the woods?"

"Unlike you and Katniss, I've been stuck inside of the district my entire life. Everything gets monotonous and boring after a while. I've always wondered what was outside of the fence. So, when I met Katniss and got strawberries from you two, well, I was a bit jealous. You guys had somewhere else to go and new things to do. Outdoor hobbies. That always sounded like…" Don't say fun, don't say fun, "… it was an interesting life. You two have really good skills that can help you and get you places. What am I supposed to do with my piano playing?"

"I don't know. Nothing, I guess."

"You weren't really supposed to answer that," I say sheepishly, "It was a rhetorical question."

"Oh"

Two and a half hours. That's how long we were out tonight. It sets a record; longest time that I've ever heard Gale speak. And, actually being friendly, too? I'm now certain that the sun will shine green tomorrow morning. No one saw us come back under, even though the lights had come back on. We plan on meeting again tomorrow night. While, I wouldn't go so far as to call him a friend, we have been friendly towards each other. It really does take my mind off of Katniss and Peeta and of the quiet insanity of my personal life. It's probably still a chore for him, but at least he's not so sullen. Well, not as sullen as he normally is.

Coming up to my house, my father's car is parked outside. Oh, not good. It's after eleven, and I'm just getting back in. On top of that, my clothes are covered in dirt, and I think that Gale might have been wrong about my eye not bruising. The light is on in the living room. I have to think of a really good excuse. I definitely wasn't in the shops. No, somewhere active. I open the door and peek my head in. He just so happened to be walking in through the entry way as I do so.

"Madge, where have you been?"

_Where have I been? Where have I been?_

"I was at a schoolmate's house, and I lost track of time." He looks at my appearance and makes a twisted face.

"What were you guys doing?"

"You can never win in a race against a dog," I laugh. Ivy Flocker is the only person I know who has a dog. She and her family stay to themselves more than I do, so she makes a good scapegoat.

He shakes his head with a smile and walks into the living room. He seems like he's in a better mood now. Is there something in the air tonight? He carries with him a stack of papers. They look like they're occupying him. This is the perfect time to sneak upstairs before he asks me anything else. But, alas, things are never simple.

"You've been disappearing a lot lately," he asks me quizzically, "And, I haven't even had to force you to get out."

"Oh, well, I've just been stopping in to see how the Everdeens are doing," I reply, for some reason questioning whether or not to disclose of my real whereabouts.

"All night?" The way he asks makes me feel guilty. "Your mother thought she heard a man here yesterday." Now, he's giving me the look again. Not good, at all.

"Well" I begin nonchalantly, "I've been around the Seam hanging out with Gale Hawthorne, too. You know him. He's Katniss' friend."

"Gale Hawthorne, the one who used to sell us the strawberries with her? The one from the woods?" Uh-oh, did I make a mistake telling him?

"Uh yeah. He's been kind of having a hard time, what with Katniss gone. I just stop by to say 'hi' sometimes. He does the same. And, he's not _from_ the woods, Dad. He hunted in them," I laugh, trying to change the topic.

"You know what I mean. He knows his way around the woods, right?"

"Yes," my turn to be thoroughly confused.

My father gives me a serious expression. I'm not sure if he's even really looking at me. He looks as if he is trying to think hard about something far off. I can almost read the thoughts in his head on his face. His eyes dart from side to side quickly before he settles on me again.

"Stick with him," he says, snapping out of his trance.

"Stick with him? What do you mean?"

"He seems like a good guy; good person to have around."

"Okay? What's going on? Is there something up?"

"No, honey," he replies, almost too cheerfully, "Everything is going as planned. Just let me handle things."

"If there's anything…"

"Don't worry," the way he says it actually does put me at ease, "Now, I have to get back to the Justice Building. A Mayor's job is never done, no matter how little control they give me. Go to sleep."

I take a shower, washing all of the dirt and leaves from my hair. I feel much better smelling like lavender than smelling of dirt and trees. As I wash my face over the sink, I look at me eye. There's a small cut underneath, and it is a little bruised, but it doesn't look like it will be there for too long. I put some ointment on it anyway. I tie my hair up, slip into my nightgown and lie down in bed.

Staring out of my window, my mind is spinning with everything going on in the past couple of days. I feel better now that my father finally told me about everything. But, I still feel like he's hiding something from me. And, what was he talking about tonight? I think of Thread. How he thought to come up to me after I talked to my dad. I wonder if he had been listening to us. No, there's no way. The office is sound proof, I know it is. What he said about a list of suspects. Why tell me that? I'm just a teenager. He was trying to tell me something, and I'm scared. But, then I think about Gale. What a nice reprieve from everything else. I really needed to be out there tonight. Sure, I may have a new battle scar, and I definitely ruined one of my favorite shirts, but it was worth it. And, I'm so happy that he was in a good mood. It took me away from my stresses, if only temporarily. I can't thank him enough. I'm beaming as I fall asleep.

The sound of the downstairs door slamming violently shakes me out of my slumber. Heavy footsteps beat against the wood floors and it sounds like something is thrown on the ground. I shoot up in bed and wait for another sound. When I don't hear anything, I get out of bed slowly. It could be robber or worse. I keep a kitchen knife in my room just in case of such instances. I tip-toe into the hallway and to the stairs. They're in the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, I head down and hide myself behind the wall.

"I'm sorry I woke you up, Madge." It's my father. It's my… father?

He looks incredibly upset. He grabs a bottle of liquor and pours a glass. In a few quick gulps, it's gone. He doesn't even drink. This scene just isn't right.

"I can't do anything around here." He slams the glass down on the counter and I jump back.

"Dad, what's wrong?"

"Stay out of the square tomorrow morning," he says sorrowfully.

"Why?"

"There is going to be an execution."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N**: Trouble in Hell :(

* * *

I don't listen to him. Instead, I stand in the square with hundreds of others watching the man being marched up the gallows. I thought I'd never see him again. I was wrong. It's the rebel from the other day. He looks awful. His face is beaten and bruised. His arms are visibly broken as they're bound in front of him. He's even missing patches of hair ripped clean from his scalp. It would normally be customary for all district officials to attend an execution, but my father, unsurprisingly, decided against it. Every Peacekeeper is here, though. They would never miss the show. Thread comes to the front of the scaffold to speak.

"This man," he doesn't even have the common decency to refer to him by name, "is a danger to the order of District 12 and the order of Panem. He has been sentenced to hang until he's dead. Let this show you all that no matter what you try, you will not overthrow the Capitol. Any other conspirators out there. We will find you, and you will meet the same fate!"

It is dead silent. They throw a bag over his head and wrap the noose around it. There is a single gasp from crowd. It's a woman. A young woman with long dark hair and tears in her eyes. An older woman, who resembles her, holds her close and turns her away. I don't want to imagine the sadness she is feeling, whoever she is. Others hardly even shed a tear for him. I don't know if they truly don't care, or if they're afraid of connecting to this man. Afraid that showing sadness in his death will put a target on their backs, as well. So cowardly. But, who am I to say anything? I can't help but do the same.

There are no final words given to the man. A lever is pulled. I close my eyes and turn my head, trying to keep myself from the horror of it. However, the sound of the trap floor dropping and the rope tightening is more than enough horror by itself. I wait to hear them cut him down, but they don't. They can't just leave him there, can they? Of course they can. What better reminder than a visual display? I trek back to my house. No more death for me.

The execution puts my mind in a horrible place. Even worse, it makes me think about my parents. I don't have to wonder if that will happen in the event of their arrest. I imagine Peacekeepers bursting my house, and hauling us all away. I imagine my father and my mother looking as tortured as the rebel did and lead up to hang. But, I can't shake the thought that it would be even worse. If they've been involved in these plots for ten years, a simple hanging wouldn't do. I shake my head of the thoughts. I don't want to cloud my mind with negative things. This plan will work. It has to. I spend the day trying to convince myself of that.

I know that I'm supposed to meet Gale here in the meadow tonight, but for the first time, I really don't feel like being here. I have a bad feeling about tonight. There have been rolls of thunder and gray clouds all day, and the mood hasn't been light. Even as dark as it is, you can still see the clouds hanging in the sky. It doesn't feel right. My fears were only heightened when Gale showed up. He looks much angrier than usual. He's not in a hood mood, that's for sure. He sits in the grass without so much as a greeting and props his arms up on his knees. Why did either of us even bother coming?

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah," he says, sounding short.

This is just as bad as first night that we met up. Distant stares. Awkward silence. It's definitely familiar. It's worse, even. It's worse, because he's not just exhausted. He's actually angry this time.

"I know that you're mad about the man today."

"Gibb Vinnings"

"Oh, that's his name? Well, I can tell that it's bothering you."

"No, it's not. I'm just thinking." He's so closed off again. He's not very believable.

"What are you thinking about?"

"There are some things that you don't talk about to some people."

"You can trust me, though. I won't say anything to anybody. I promise."

"Even if it's about a rebellion? Can I trust you with that?" He wants me to say no. He wants me to accuse him of being a traitor for even mentioning it and run off to tell Peacekeepers of his evil words. I won't.

"Yes, you can."

"We were talking in the mines today. We always talk. They're ready, and I'm ready."

"What do you plan on doing?"

"We're coming together in two days and charging the Justice Building. Take out any Peacekeepers we see and anymore that they send in. We'll control communication, transportation, supplies, everything."

My mouth drops. I look around us to see if anyone is within hearing range. They're not, but I'm still worried. Not about anyone hearing him, but about what he's saying. This is exactly what my father was talking about. Brute-force. It will be the death of them and any other rebellion in our district. I can't let that happen.

"That's insanity, Gale."

"Why is it insanity," he asks rolling his eyes.

"Because, you'll die trying. The Peacekeepers have guns, and they're way better equipped to fight. They'll have no problem taking you out."

"We're not going after your dad. He'll be fine, okay?"

"I'm not worried about my dad. I'm worried about you. You don't understand them. They're prepared for rebel charges. That's what they want. You can't…"

"What are you saying? You're saying that we shouldn't try? We should just accept our lives? That we shouldn't rebel?"

"No, not at all. I'm just saying that it would be in everyone's best interest to re-think your strategy. I don't think that you should revolt so soon. Keep going on normally for now. Give it some time."

This isn't coming out at all like I want it to. I don't want him to think that I'm saying that rebelling is wrong. I just want him to see that he's doing it wrong. I'm only trying to protect him and the other miners from certain death. That's all I want him to see. If he waits a little longer without causing too much of a stir, my father's plans can go through and everyone will benefit. I want so badly to tell him this. But, instead, it seems that I've done nothing but anger him more. His eyes pierce through me like balls of fire. He's repulsed by my words. He looks thoroughly betrayed._ I'm not betraying, you. _I wish I could tell him that. But, right now, I doubt that he'd even listen to me anyway.

"See, that kind of attitude is the problem! People are too content with everything, and they don't think about the struggles going on in their own district! They don't think about struggles that need to be taken care of _now_; not later!"

"You don't know that," I say defensively. I must remember to keep things to myself, so I sigh and continue calmly, "Just wait a little longer and things will work out."

"Work out? You think that things will 'work out?' Well, things don't just work out in the Seam, _Undersee_. We have to actually work for what we want over here, and we still don't get it." There is venom behind the way he says my name.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I'm wasting time," he growls, standing up to leave. Then, he turns around and looks down on me. Looking down on me never seemed as true as it does now, "You don't know. You have no idea what we go through over here. Who are you to say that we shouldn't rise up? You'll never know!"

"That's not true," I struggle to bite my tongue and calculate my words before speaking.

"Of course it's true! Talking to someone like you about starving and hardships and torture is no use, because you wouldn't understand. You all stay on your side and play along with the Capitol. Just obedient because… Well, why not? The Capitol never did you wrong. You have no reason not to be obedient!"

That does it. That's the straw.

"And, where are your revolts getting you now, huh," I snap, "Is it putting any more food on your table? Is it shortening your work hours? No, because it's not working! It's hurting you more than it's helping, whether you think so or not. This is not the way to go about it! You don't trust me when I say that some of us do care about others! You're so quick to throw everybody together and judge us all so poorly, when I've _never_ done that to you!"

By the brief look of shock on Gale's face, I can tell that he wasn't expecting me to yell. I wasn't either. The fiery words don't even sound real coming in my naturally soft-spoken tone. They definitely aren't words that I would say often; not out loud, at least. I can't help it, though. He says that we don't know; that _I_ don't know. He's the one that has no idea what's really going on. If only he knew. How ignorant would he feel? As quickly as his shock appeared is as fast as it leaves and is replaced by resistance.

"I've had a hard life. If the Capitol is allowed to continue like it is, I'll keep having a hard life. And my children would have hard lives, and their children. It won't stop. It'll just be an endless cycle of this," he speaks. Behind his rage, I can see sadness in his eyes attached to those words, "_Your_ children, though, they'll grow up healthy and happy with plenty of food to eat and a much better future, just like you have."

"All right," I say as I pick up my backpack and flash light, "There's obviously no changing your mind. I have somehow wronged you _so_ much that you harbor animosity towards me. You're just going to keep seeing me through your jaded vision, no matter what I say to try and change it. You're right. I'll never understand you."

"Madge, you just need to wake up from your fantasy world and see the pain around you."

"I see it every day!"

"What? What do you see every day? What could the mayor's daughter have possibly gone through in her lifetime that was so bad?" I stand up, closing much of the space between us and match his angered glare.

"I see my mother, who isn't even allowed to go to the Capitol to get proper medical care. So, she stays locked in her room dying from pain. I see this. This anger that people have towards me because of who I am and where I'm from. This dissension amongst our own District, these _sides_, created by the Capitol to keep us from coming together. Created, so we all remain 'obedient.' And, I lost my best friend to the Capitol… twice! My best friend! My _only_ friend! Did you forget that?"

The shock returns to him. That seemed to strike a nerve. He doesn't reply. He couldn't have been expecting those words to come from me, of all people. It's as if he'd forgotten what Katniss meant to me, as well. _Our _friend was gone. Not just his. He stares at me with a softened gaze, but it's my turn to be angry. It's my turn to look down on him. His mouth drops, and he looks as if he is trying to sort out a rebuttal but one is not coming. For a change, I truly didn't want to hear a word he had to say.

"I'm… I didn't…" he stumbles.

"I'm hurting, too, Gale," I say sorrowfully, "I'd love to be this perfect little creature with a fantasy life that you speak of. It sounds amazing."

With that, I push past him and across the meadow. I feel the drops of water hit my folded arms before I notice that I'm crying. Why? Maybe it's just because I'd been keeping my anger inside for so long, and I took it all out on him. Or maybe it's the fact that it won't change. We can be as friendly as we like to each other, hang out and joke around. But, it will always come back to the same thing. _I_ don't know what he's been through. _I_ don't know what suffering is. _I_ get everything I want and need without any problems. Whatever it is that separates me from them, from him, resonates whenever something goes wrong around here. He's made me the poster child for 12's corruption. I'm sorry, Gale Hawthorne. I'm sorry that I single-handedly caused all of the suffering in District 12. I did it. I did everything. Is that what I'm supposed to say? My tears fall faster than I can wipe them away.

Last night in the woods never happened. It's nothing but a distant memory now. No, a sweet dream.

* * *

**A/N**: Sadly, this was bound to happen.


	11. Chapter 11

Today is just a day to relax. I haven't spoken to or seen Gale since the argument yesterday of course, and I don't intend on it either. It's possible that I'm being a bit childish about it. Maybe I'm even being a little naïve to think that not speaking to him will somehow teach him a lesson. No, there's no way that it will. He's likely not even giving it a second thought. I'm just doing this for my own sanity. I've been putting entirely too much focus on spending time with him. I'm starting to rely on his friendship to keep from being lonely. I decide to do other things instead. Nothing too important, though.

I got up in the morning and cooked a breakfast for my family. I made sausage, toast with cinnamon and maple syrup, and boiled eggs. Dad has been looking very tired lately, so it was nice to him smile at the sight of the food. He was actually the one who taught me how to cook at a very young age. It was how my mother fell for him, is what he always said.

"I taught you well," he joked as he inhaled the toast before heading to the Justice Building.

After receiving his approval, I asked my mother if she wanted to eat, too. It's not a good day for her, because she simply moaned that she isn't hungry. I fixed my own plate and sat down to an empty and quiet breakfast by myself. Bored, I packed up some of the rest of the food and brought it to the Everdeens' house. Mrs. Everdeen answered the door. She said that Prim was at the Hawthorne's house, but she invited me in anyway. However, she's a bit off today. She's behaving strangely.

"Madge, you did a wonderful job with the food," she remarks, "It tastes amazing."

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Everdeen. I've been meaning to come over lately, anyway."

"Well, we appreciate any visitors. Hazelle Hawthorne brought Rory over recently. It was nice for Prim to have someone her age to talk to." She pauses for a minute. "Hazelle was saying that Gale is doing well. She said that he's been hanging around with _you_ quite often."

"Oh, not really often" I haven't a clue as to why I'm nervous after hearing her say that. Maybe it's her tone of voice, "We usually just walk around or sit and talk a while. That's all." I try to keep it as vague as possible.

"That's good," she says sipping her tea. "Katniss will be happy to see you two getting along when she gets back home." There's something unsettling about the way she says it.

"Yes, I can't wait till she does, and Peeta too I hope somehow," I smile.

"Mmhm. Gale will be glad to have her back here, too. Then, things will get back to the way that they _should_ be." I shudder when she drops the teacup on the tray.

"Um… Is everything all right, Mrs. Everdeen?" She looks at me with sad eyes.

"Oh goodness. I am so sorry, sweetie. Look at me, I'm taking my irritation out on teenagers," she says, sounding ashamed of herself, "I didn't mean to sound like that. It's just been a tough day."

"Everything is all right with Katniss, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's just hard when no one is here. I think about her more."

I stand up and give her a hug. I feel bad for her, but being here is bringing back my sadness again, so I leave. As I go through the streets, I can't shake a troublesome feeling coming over me. I'm plagued by Mrs. Everdeen's insinuation, even if it was only caused by misguided anger. Well, I can't quite tell what she was insinuating. It sounded like she was accusing me and Gale of forgetting about Katniss; throwing her aside because she's not here. Possibly that I was trying to replace her. That's not true in the slightest bit. We're not forgetting about her. She's the reason why we hung out in the first place. I admit that I've allowed the stress and pressure of her being in the games slip from my mind recently. I haven't dreamed about her or let my mind go through thoughts of her whereabouts. Does that make me a bad friend? No. Maybe. I don't know. I don't like this feeling. I don't mean to forget about her. Really, I haven't, and I know for absolute sure that Gale hasn't either. So, why do I feel so bad, so guilty?

All that I've successfully done today was made myself feel worse. I made breakfast only to eat it alone. I paid a visit only to receive a guilt trip. I'm not very good at this social thing. Back at home, I'm having a hard time picking myself up, too. I still keep thinking about Gale, and every time I do, I get mad all over again. I wish I could just march down to the mines, give him the tongue-lashing of a lifetime and be done with it. Mrs. Everdeen doesn't have to worry about us getting friendly anymore. I'm sorry, Katniss. We've probably only made things worse between us.

I sit at the piano and try to think about what to play to pass the time. I decide that I'm in the mood for an angry tune. I grab the most furious one that I can find. My mother is fast asleep. She won't be bothered by my playing this time. My fingers beat wildly on the piano keys.

_Obedient_.

I lose myself completely in the song.

_I don't understand_.

I fly through the pages of sheet music.

_No one cares_.

I feel as if I'm taking my wrath out on my instrument.

_Why should I care what Gale thinks about me_, I think. _Who is he but a boy that I went to school with? I shouldn't care. I don't care. It doesn't matter what he thinks of me. I… I couldn't care less… how he sees me._

I miss a couple of notes as I think about that. Why _am_ I so angry at him anyway? Because he insulted me, that's why! Yes, that's it. Of course, that's why I'm so upset. I'll go with that.

I am finishing up my song when I'm stunned by the sound of a large, booming noise. I stand up instantly and stumble back. The sound is so great that it shakes the ground and reverberates through the house. My mother calls down from upstairs.

"What was that, Madge," her voices strains to ask.

"I don't know!"

I hear people moving and yelling outside, so I run out of my door. People huddle around in the street, looking as terrified as I do. They move in a herd out of the neighborhood and towards the town square. From the hill that my house stands on, I can see a thick cloud of smoke coming from the Seam. I don't see any flames, but the smoke is more than enough to warrant worry. Whatever this is, it's serious. I follow the crowd through town. As we move closer to the Seam, another crowd of people comes rushing at us. Most of them are covered from head to toe in thick, black dust. Some of them are limping, while others look dazed. Nearly all of them have tears in their eyes. A man in front of me grabs a woman who is running and coal-stained, calling out for her husband.

"What happened," the man asks, gripping on to the woman's shoulders.

"There was an accident in the mines," she cries out, "We were just working, and half of the tunnel exploded! The whole thing was collapsing in!"

"It's horrible! They're still down there! They're dead," another coal-covered man screams as he runs by.

"I can't find my husband! He was down there with me, but I can't find him. He _must_ have gotten on a lift! I _know_ he did," the woman shrieks in between sobs.

Oh no. No, he can't be dead. I push my way through the people charging at me and wandering around aimlessly. All anger and hard feelings I had towards Gale disappear in an instant. None of it matters anymore. The closer I get to the mines, the thicker the smoke becomes and the harder it is to see. My brain isn't registering any sounds. No matter how fast I move I don't seem to be moving fast enough. I have to get to the mines, or what's left of them, and see if he's okay. As I pass the miners, I look into their blackened faces, hoping to recognize one as Gale. But, he is nowhere to be found. There aren't many miners coming out. What does that mean? The rest of them are dead? The screaming man's words replay frighteningly in my head.

It's not until I arrive at the site of the mines that I see the damage. The entry way has completely caved in. Any structure erected to hold it up is nothing but a memory now, because I'm looking at little more than a large pile of dirt and the concave surface of the ground above the mines. It's more than evident. There are no survivors left in that mine. Still, I run towards the entrance. Just then, three Peacekeepers appear in front of me. Their white uniforms are also stained but still easily recognizable. A large group of them come seemingly out of nowhere, pushing back the crying people who want to find their loved ones. Many try and fight the armed guards, but they are quickly beaten down or shot at.

"Get back, girl," one yells as he pushes me away.

"Is Gale Hawthorne in there," I cry, clutching his uniform. He looks appalled at my audacity to do so. My brain must be clouded from worrying. I don't know why I'm asking them, as if they know or even care about the well-being of a miner, "I need to see if he made it out."

"Get back, I said! I don't care about your dammed boyfriend! This area is closed off!"

"I'm begging you. Just…"

"What did I say," he screams as he raises the back of his gun, ready to strike me with it.

I let go of him and lift my arms defensively. It's enough to convince me to unwillingly heave his order. I look around again, but Gale is still nowhere to be found. I take off into the Seam. Maybe he's at home. Maybe he hadn't even gone to work today. My heart speeds up as I race through the streets. As I approach his house, I see Hazelle running out. Her eyes are red from crying, and that lets me know that my hope was indeed false.

"Mrs. Hawthorne! Mrs. Hawthorne!"

"Oh, Madge," she says as she runs over to me. She grabs my hands, her eyes momentarily locking with mine before she glances around the crowd, "Please tell me you've seen him!"

"I… I… I was hoping that he was here. I can't find him anywhere."

"Oh God," she gasps as she begins to cry, "I have to find him."

"I'll come, too," I say, but she holds me back.

"No, you go back home. It's too chaotic down here. You might get hurt. Your father must be worried sick about you."

"But, I…"

"Go, please. I'll be sure that you know what happens. Please," she pleads. The way her eyes look at me tell me that I can't win this one. I nod and run back home.

When I get to my street, my father is standing on the lawn calling out for me. By the looks of his dirt-covered clothes, he was down at the mines, too. He spots me as I run up to him and wraps me up in his arms.

"Madge! What were you doing down there?"

"I can't find Gale," I choke out. The tears follow shortly after, "His mother hadn't seen him either."

"You didn't see him at all," he asks with a worried look on his face.

"No! Do you think he got caught in the mines? He's dead isn't he?"

"Calm down. I'll find him, okay? But, you have to stay inside," he said as he let me go and made his way across the lawn, "I'm going back down there now. Go inside!"

He runs back down the street, and I sprint in my house. My mother is propping herself up against the couch. Even in my panic, I think about how she shouldn't be down here. She should be in bed. I silently take her arm to lead her, but she merely grabs mine back and pulls me to her. I can't help it. I cry on her chest as she holds me closely. It takes every bit of her strength to stay up, but she tries anyway.

"Gale's dead, Momma," I sob.

"Shh," she says rubbing her hand over my hair, "You don't know that, sweetheart."

"He is, and I was so mad at him. I hated him, but… I don't hate him."

"I know. Everything is going to be all right, you hear me?" I say yes, but I'm not believing it. "Go upstairs, clean yourself up and rest. Don't worry."

After I take a rushed shower, I throw my night clothes on and wait. I trade off between walking around upstairs, hanging downstairs and sitting outside. Nothing is easing my mind. It takes every ounce of me to not run back down to the mines. Hours of worrying is starting to get to me now. The last conversation we had was an argument. I left him with bad blood before I even gave him a chance to say anything back. If he's dead, he died probably thinking that I couldn't stand him. Maybe he couldn't stand me by that time either. I want to kick myself for walking away from him.

As night falls, I pace the living room waiting for something, anything. Anything that will let me know what happened to Gale. Hazelle said that she'd make sure that I knew, but I can't take the waiting. It's about one in the morning, and I'm beginning to drive myself crazy with thoughts. My father isn't here to tell me what he knows, and from what I saw this afternoon, I have every reason to be afraid for my friend. My… friend.

I hear a knock on the door. It's not forceful, so it must not be a Peacekeeper. It's not my father, of course. It could be someone looking for him, though. A curious neighbor? Then I think about it. Hazelle. She must have found something out. Suddenly, I'm not ready to hear what she has to say, because I can't escape the feeling that I already know what it is. But, isn't this what I'd been asking for all day? Some kind of clarification? Not this kind, though. That is the absolute last thing I want to hear anyone tell me right now. I hesitate before I answer, and she knocks again. I inhale deeply, preparing myself for whatever she says, and I open the door.


	12. Chapter 12

I'm immediately taken aback. Standing alone and covered in thick layers of coal dust, Gale stares back at me somberly, holding his hard hat. He is almost unrecognizable, and had it not been for the "G. Hawthorne" printed on his mining suit, I might not have initially known it was him either. But, his piercing gray eyes, that uniquely his, bore through the caked on grime.

"Gale," I cry out loudly, as I instinctively throw my arms around him. He warily embraces me back. The tears come again, "I thought you were dead! I went down there and, and I couldn't find you. I went to you mother and… Oh, have you found her? She was…"

"I found her. She knows I'm here," he says in a low and distant voice. I look up at him. He looks distraught. Traumatized, even.

"Come in," I say, drying my face.

He follows me in and leans up against the wall. He starts coughing violently and grabbing his chest, which scares me again. Once he stops, he leans his head back on the wall, too, breathing wheezy breaths. I place my hands on his shoulders and offer him water that he refuses.

"Are you hurt?" I quickly scan his body for injuries.

"No."

"Where have you been?" He looks up at me with an aggravated glare. I don't know if he's means to glare at me.

"I've been digging to recover the remains of my co-workers," he replies flatly.

I can't respond to that. I simply put my arms back around him and comfort him. I can't imagine what he has seen today. The amount of people that died right in front of him. How many of them were his friends? His eyes say everything. Pulling back, I do notice a few cuts on his face and a few more on his arms and hands.

"I have something for those," I say as I point to a cut.

"Madge, don't"

"It's dangerous to leave wounds unclean. You can get really sick. Come on, I have it upstairs."

My ointment worked perfectly on my scar from the other night. It should work well on him, too. I know that little cuts are the very least of his problems, but there isn't much else that I can do. I'd like to help him in out some way.

I walk in my room first, but I notice that he's not following me anymore. I turn around to see him standing in my doorway. He looks as if he is waiting for an invitation to enter. Or maybe he just hasn't been in a girl's room before, except for possibly Katniss.

"It's okay. You can come in," I assure.

He walks in, observing the surroundings. It's the first time that I'm actually a bit embarrassed of my childish, lavender pastel color scheme, but it's not the time to worry about silly things like that. He hovers near my window. I grab a bowl from my nightstand and go into my bathroom. Turning the warm water on, I place the bowl in the sink and grab a fresh face towel from by bathroom closet.

"I have to get you cleaned up before I put any medicine on."

"This really…"

"I don't want to hear it, Gale," I shoot back, "Have a seat on the bed."

"You want coal all over the place?"

"Do you really think that I care about that right now?"

He takes a seat near the foot of the bed with his back to me. He looks positively lethargic. I sit down at the head of my bed in front of him and place the bowl and cloth in between us. He reaches to pick up the towel, but I push his hand away from it.

"Don't worry about it. I've got it." He furrows his brows at me.

"No"

"Yes"

He must be tired of disagreeing with me and frankly, I'm tired of arguing with him. I don't want to argue anymore. He rests his arm on his leg and places his hand over his face, covering his eyes as he closes them. He has the same expression that my father has, rubbing his forehead. I slowly soak the towel in the water as he begins to speak.

"It happened so fast. I was just working in my usual spot- towards the middle of the cave. All of a sudden there was an explosion from deeper in. We thought they might have been blowing out more of the tunnel to mine, until we heard people screaming and felt the rumbling. We started running out. The rumbling was getting louder and the screams behind me were disappearing. When we got to the lifts, people were starting to fight for a spot on one. One guy threw a pick in another man's head to get his space. I had a couple of people try to fight me as well once I got on. There were about thirty of us on each lift. We pressed the button to let us up, but it didn't really move. It only went up about a couple of feet, and went back down. I didn't know what was going on. Everyone was yelling for someone on the surface to let us up, but no one responded. The rocks were starting to fall in around us, too. People outside of the cages were getting crushed. Finally, the lift started working again. Only two of the lifts got up in time. The other one snapped and fell back down."

His voice is little over a whisper. He's trying to keep up a strong face, but it's not working. I pull the warm towel out of the water and wring it out. I place the towel against his face and begin wiping away the coal dust. My hand smoothes over his prominent cheekbone down to the line of his jaw, revealing the clean skin underneath. He's not telling me to leave him alone anymore, so I continue on fixing him up. He just keeps his head down, and goes on with his story.

"There were some people from my line on the third lift and some of that didn't even make it on a lift at all. I was starting to like them."

"I'm so sorry. I don't even know what I can say, because it won't help any," I nearly whisper as I wipe across his forehead. I feel him tighten his brows, seemingly in anger but not towards me. "How many people were you guys able to get out afterwards?"

"Alive? Four. There were nearly a hundred people down there after I got out."

"Oh no"

"It wasn't an accident, Madge." I freeze, not even bothering to take the towel away.

"What are you saying?"

"When the lifts weren't working, I looked up to the surface. Someone was up there keeping them down. They kept pressing the buttons to stop them from coming up. It was only when I yelled out that someone was trying to mess with the lifts that the man ran off. By the time I got to the surface, he was long gone or mixed up in the confusion. I don't know."

"Do you remember what he looked like?"

"He wasn't an official or anything. He was definitely from the Seam. An older, run-down man, looked like he lived on the streets."

"Why would anyone go after the mines? It's our only export."

"It's not the mines," he starts off, "Katniss told me once that President Snow threatened her. He said that he'd have me killed in a mining accident."

"Oh, Gale," I gasp. I never knew about that. Katniss always tried to keep things normal with me, so it's no surprise that she didn't tell me about that. I had no idea how deep her feud with President Snow was.

"Yeah, well the caves are gone, so there's no hope for a mining accident now," he jokes darkly. I've never been a fan of dark humor.

"That's not funny."

"I know," the solemn look returns.

I soak the towel again and clean the rest of his face. I try not to think about the possibility of him dying. It was bad enough thinking he was dead for a few hours. I wouldn't be able to handle _knowing_ that he was. I focus instead on wiping the coal away. I move the towel along his hair line, to each temple and each cheek. I lift his head up by the chin and run the towel down the bridge of his nose and under his eyes. It's the first time he looks at me since he started talking. He scoffs a little.

"What? What could possibly be funny right now?"

"Your face," My face? "You look like you're a doctor doing surgery or something. Very… pensive."

"Well, if you saw yourself right now, you'd see why," I say, trying to hide my smile, "Now, stop talking. I have to get the rest of your face. You look like you were eating ink."

He presses his lips shut, and I put the towel back in the water, washing it off a little. Putting the towel over my fingers, I place them gently on his lips. I sweep the towel from side-to-side slowly. Now, I feel a little embarrassed. It didn't seem like anything weird before, but actually touching his lips makes me feel slightly uncomfortable. I hope he's not thinking the same thing. I don't look at his eyes to see if their still open and on me. That would only add to the embarrassment. I just keep my eyes on his lips, which isn't helping any more. They're full. I already knew that they were, but it still amazes me how soft they are, too. I memorize the shape of them, slightly thinner on top than the bottom. Maybe, I'm concentrating too hard, because when he parts his lips, I jerk back to reality and notice that they've have been clean for some time now. I gulp and clear my throat nervously as I grab his wrist.

"Are you afraid," I ask while I wash the dust from his hands and arms.

"Of what?"

"President Snow. The Peacekeepers. The Capitol. All of it. What if you're right about the accident? What if they really are trying to kill you?"

"It's not me that I worry about. It's my family. But, as long as I can keep them safe, I'm fine."

"That's very admirable." I've always had such respect for the way that he and Katniss take care of their families so much.

"Thank you. I have a feeling that things are about to change around here, though, and soon," I pause for a moment, hoping that he isn't talking about the miners' plans. I thought that plan would've been over after what happened, "Others saw what I saw. They know it wasn't an accident. Everyone lost someone, and they're all angry now. This is the perfect time. Give it a few more days, and we'll be able to go through with our plan." Not this again.

"Please don't do anything drastic right now."

"Madge," he starts to get upset again but calms down when he sees my genuinely worried look, "All I'm saying is that the Peacekeepers are going to be occupied with this for a while. They're not on guard anymore. Other districts have already started to rebel!"

"I know," I say under my breath. I immediately catch myself, hoping that he didn't hear, but it's too late.

"You know? How do you know?"

"It's not important."

"It _is_ important," he pleads. He grabs my arm as I'm trying to clean his, "What do you know? Tell me something!"

"All I'm saying is that I wasn't lying when I said that you guys aren't as alone in your cause as you think you are. I would just like to leave it at that. But, please, this stays here, do you understand?" I surprise myself in the forcefulness of my words. He assures me that he won't tell anybody. "I don't really want to talk about that stuff anymore."

"All right," he sighs.

After some time of silence, I've successfully restored Gale back to a clean state. I pick up the ointment and begin applying it to the cuts. I finish up with a smile. He looks much better, at least physically.

"There you go. All done."

"Thanks," he says, standing up and dusting the dirt from the place on my bed where he sat, "You know, you didn't have to." I stood up and walked into my bathroom to dump out the dirty water.

"Eh, you looked like you could have used it."

"Yeah, I probably did," he guffaws, rubbing the stubble on his face, "What time is it?"

"Oh goodness," I just notice the time on my clock, "It's just about three o'clock."

"Really? That's crazy. I didn't think it'd been two hours. Is your father home?"

"Likely not," I walk back in my room, "He's not home very much. He's really busy. Especially when something like this happens. He might not be back in until the late morning or afternoon. Trust me, it's for the best. I'm not sure how he'd react to me having a guy alone in my room this late."

"Well, what would he think?" Gale stares at me blankly. I'm caught off guard, and I can feel myself blinking rapidly. He knows exactly what he would think. The same thing that everyone would think. The same thing that I hadn't thought about until just now.

"Uh… he'd just think… that… we… um…"

"I'm just joking with you," he smirks slightly, "I need to get back home, anyway."

He leaves my room, and I take huge sigh of relief before following behind him. He was just joking. As we go through the house, I check for signs of my father's presence. Luckily, there aren't any, so my mind is at ease about that. But, not about Gale's safety. President Snow could've easily won today. Gale could've been dead. Just thinking about that makes me have to fight the urge to latch onto him and never let go. I can't let him die. I just can't. My father's plan has to work and fast. Gale opens up the door ready to leave, but I grab his arm. He swings around and twists his face up in bewilderment.

"Please be careful."

"I will," he nods still puzzled by my sternness, "Goodnight, Madge."

"Goodnight, Gale."

With that, he walks out of the door and down the street. I'm glad that all of my neighbors' lights are off because the last thing I need to worry about now is gossip. I watch him as he goes down the street, and don't look away until I can't see him anymore. Only then, do I step back inside and close my door.

* * *

**A/N:** In terms of time line, this would be Day 8 (ish). Being the nerd that I am, I drew out a time line before I started writing this, estimating how long Katniss and Peeta would've been gone in total, what was going on with them on which days and planned my story out based on that.I wanted to get it as close to accurate as possible, so I put myself on a strict and calculated time frame.

I swear I have a life. lol.

But yeah, I'm just wrapping up the next chapter so I should have that on here by tonight. Gotta love being out of school with nothing to do. hahaha XD

Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Told you I'd have it up by tonight. lol. This one should tie a wee bit of the loose ends together for you guys.

* * *

The mood of the afternoon is somber. After searching for hours yesterday, no more survivors were found in the mines. Of the four that Gale mentioned, two of them died from their wounds shortly after. There are more dead than I care to count. Most of the bodies were unable to be recovered. This memorial ceremony is not too far off from the last one we had that was mining related; the one for the accident that killed Katniss and Gale's fathers. I was too young then, but now I see the significance of it. The heartbreak of it. I sit on the stage, while my father makes a speech commemorating the "courage and dedication of the fallen miners." My mother wasn't able to attend, but my father gives a sympathy regard on her behalf.

Looking over the crowd, I see no sign of Gale or his family. I'm sure that they're here, though. Now, it's the part of the ceremony where my father gives medals to the families of the dead. Children of all ages form a long line at the steps. This must be the most medals that he's ever handed out at one time. Some children remain strong, but others cry the entire time. I remember sitting in this exact same position as I watched a young Katniss and Gale accept medals for their families' losses. What a terrible sight. I think of how easily it could've been Rory coming up to the stage today to collect yet another medal for the Hawthornes.

After the ceremony, we return home. My father goes immediately to his study, almost without a word. I occupy myself by cleaning the house. An hour or so later, I hear an eager knock. I look out the window and grin.

I open up the door to see a lanky middle-aged man with graying dirty blonde hair, peering at me behind thick glasses. Olin Lemmreck. He's known my father for many years, well before I was born. Apparently, they were neighbors in their younger days. They lost contact over time, but recently I've been seeing much more of him. Today, he's brought with him a packed, brown shoulder bag, a small cake, and his young daughter, Dara. She's ten, but she looks about seven. Her dirty blonde hair is bone-straight and is cropped at her shoulders. Bangs come just above her big, blue eyes and frame her round face. She's wearing an orange sundress and smiling brightly. I bend down and open my arms to her, and she runs in for a hug, fastening herself to my hips. She's so sweet.

"Madge," he says boisterously, "How are you? Don't you look pretty today!" I really don't. My hair is a mess, and I smell like cleaning products.

"Thank you. I'm doing wonderful, Mr. Lemmreck. And you?"

"Oh, I'm all right," his face gives away a look of worry, "I just have to talk to your father, if that's okay."

"Of course," I say as they come in, "I hope that nothing is wrong."

"Now, you're not trying to worry about adult problems, are you," he laughs, ruffling the hair on the top of my head. Dancing around the question. That means that something is definitely wrong. I hear the clunk of my father's shoes as he enters the room.

"Olin," he says happily, "This is a surprise. What's the occasion?"

"Well, Lena made you guys a smaller version of Dara's birthday cake, since you weren't able to make it to the party." He hands a yellow and white frosted cake to me.

"She even took the time to re-decorate it," I giggle.

"You know how Lena is. She has to go all out for everything."

"Tell her we said thank you and to come with you next time," Dad smiles to which Olin nods. Then the mood turns more serious. "So, what's in the bag?"

"Just some papers I've been meaning to show you." He turns to me, "Madge you wouldn't mind watching over Dara, would you?"

"It's not a problem at all." She'll put me in a much happier frame of mind. Olin pulls Dara's drawing pad out of his bag with a pencil and hands them to her. He then follows my father up stairs, likely to his study. Something is most certainly wrong.

Dara walks over to the couch and sits down with her sketch pad, completely unaware of the worrisome situation going on. It's better for me to focus on entertaining my young guest than what could be concerning her father so much.

"Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you for asking." She's always so polite.

"What are you drawing?"

"It's my mother when she was making the cake. I'm done with it now, though."

I peek over her shoulder. She certainly has talent far greater than her age would assume. The picture is an exact copy of Lena Lemmreck. She is tall and slim. Her long blonde hair is tied in a messy ponytail that falls down her back. She has an apron on and baking powder all over her face, from what I can tell. It's definitely the Lena that I remember. She adds a few more strokes and dusts the page off before lifting her pencils up to examine the finished product.

"Done," she grins.

"It's beautiful, Dara. She'll love it. What else have you drawn?"

"Just a few things," she says modestly.

She hands me the book, and I flip through it. There are drawings of flowers and birds and animals. Then, I see a picture of a boy. He looks to be around her age, and from the looks of his dark features, is from the Seam. He seems to be kicking a ball around. I'm guessing that she drew this of him without him knowing. I look up and smirk at her.

"Who's this boy?"

"Oh," she looks down and continues on with a bashful smile, "His name is Sam Reeven. He's in my year."

"Is he a friend of yours?" She shakes her head. "Do you like him?" She grazes her toes across the floor nervously. "Well, he is a very handsome boy, I think."

"Really?" Her little eyes brighten up.

"Certainly," I chime.

"I don't really know how to talk to him. He has a lot of friends."

"Don't let him having friends get in the way. Just be friendly, too, and he'll notice you. Sometimes, you just have to show a boy that you think he's cute, and he might just like you back."

"Do you like a boy, Madge?"

"What?" It must be getting a little hot in here, because I can feel the perspiration coming.

"I mean do you know what it's like to like someone that you can't talk to? It's really hard to just go up and talk to someone when you like them a lot. I'm too shy."

"Um… well… No, I don't like anyone right now, really" I gulp, "but, trust me. I know what I'm talking about. I'm really shy, too, so I understand. But, you know, you might surprise yourself once you start talking to him. A connection could just come so easily sometimes. You could have more in common than you think."

She gives me a sheepish grin. It gives me hope that I helped her out with her problem, despite the fact that I'm not quite sure what I'm talking about. What do I know about talking to boys that I like? I've never quite been good at that kind of thing until…

"Can I draw you? I can just do a quick sketch." I can't say no to her.

"Sure, if you'd like. Do you want me to sit over here," I say pointing to the arm chair directly across from her. She nods her head in excitement and turns to a blank page. I sit casually on the chair.

"Okay, now don't smile. I just want you to look off in the distance." Spoken like a true artist.

I do as I'm told and keep my eyes on a picture of me and my father. I was about five in the picture, and I had a big bow sitting nicely in my hair. My dress was a pale shade of pink, and I was showing all of my teeth, even the spaces missing teeth, as I giggled. My father held on to me and seemed to be tickling me. I remember taking it. My mom was actually the one who took it. It was one of her good days. She had much more of those back then. We were in our old backyard, and it was around this same time of year. That was back when things weren't complicated with rebellions, and reapings and confusing feelings. Well, I still don't have confusing feelings, now. I guess I just mean… well, I'm not quite sure of what I mean. It makes me smile, though.

"Madge, you can't smile yet," the little artist says.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Just let me finish your face, and then you can move," she concentrates on her work for a few minutes more, and then gives me the okay to move again.

"Can I see?"

"No! Not yet!" She uses her body to cover up her drawing.

"All right, all right," I say, "So, how was your party? I'm sorry that I wasn't there."

"That's fine. It was a lot of fun. We mainly just played a bunch of games. My friends stayed the night at my house. You probably wouldn't have had fun anyway."

"Why do you say that?"

"There wasn't really much to do for older people. Just a bunch of kids' stuff."

"Now, Dara, are you calling me old," I laugh, "I'm only seventeen."

"Yeah, and you're _seven years_ older than me."

"Well, I'm going to laugh when you turn seventeen and someone calls you old."

"But, Madge," she says innocently, "You'll be twenty-four, so you'll still be old, too." I huff and then we both laugh together.

Just as she's starting to shade in, her pencil tip breaks. I offer to get her a pencil sharpener. I know there's one in my room. I go in and quickly find the sharpener. Then, I remember my father and Mr. Lemmreck in the study. I know I'm not supposed to eaves drop anymore, but I truly want to know if something is wrong. No, I know that something is wrong. I just want to know what. I creep down the hall. As I get closer to the study door I can hear faint voices. They sound grave, which confirms my suspicions.

"That's _exactly_ what I think happened, Olin" I hear my father say, "A Peacekeeper doing the job would be too obvious. Get a homeless man off the street to do it with some bribe, and no one would think a thing of it. Punish the crazy old man, and it'll look like the Peacekeepers are on their side, looking out for their safety. They're just lucky that something scared him off, or they would've never made it up in time, the ones that did make it."

It must be the mining accident. Gale was right. It _was_ on purpose, and the miners yelling at the man must've caused him to flee.

"It makes sense that they'd try to attack, what with all the talks down there. Best to take out all the rebels in one. That's where they went wrong. You can't talk about threats to the Capitol all the time, not when it would be too easy to kill you _on accident_." The tone in Olin's voice is unlike his usual upbeat manner. It has urgency and anger in it.

"I know, but I think the explosion might have fueled the rebels even more. They might start to organize."

"It'll never work! They don't have enough numbers! What do they expect to accomplish like that?" My father shushes Olin, whose volume increases with frustration. "If they try to simply charge the gates, they won't achieve anything except for getting themselves killed."

I think of Gale again. While, Gale and the other miners' plans to "strike back" look fine on paper, the actual act would be set up for failure. My father drops the subject.

"What correspondence have you gotten?"

"They have him now," Olin says in a somber tone.

"What about Portia?" Portia, I remember her being Peeta's stylist. So, are they talking about Katniss' designer, Cinna? What happened to him?

"I don't think so. We haven't heard from her, but she might have escaped."

"That's good. Is he alive?"

"Yes, but Heavensbee said that it doesn't look good. He's not giving them any information, no matter what they do to him."

"Good man. We have to get him out some way. And what about Katniss? What does she know?"

"Not much. She's only been in the arena for one day. She doesn't need any more pressure on her. It's for the best that doesn't know. Haymitch has made arrangements with other Victors to keep her and Peeta Mellark safe, but that's about it."

"Which districts?"

"Four, seven, three, six and eleven. It should be enough to hold the others off until we can follow through." What does he mean by "follow through?" He continues, "Unfortunately, I think that Snow is catching on to what is happening. I don't know why, but I feel like he's planning something, too."

"Seems like everyone is bringing their cards out for this one"

"It does look that way," he pauses briefly and speaks again in a voice almost too quiet to hear, "A few Peacekeepers came to my house the other day. They were asking me all sorts of questions about the miners and your family and my family."

"Why?"

"I can't think of any other reason."

"Do you think something was intercepted?"

"Maybe, I don't know. I want to get Lena and Dara out of here. Hide out on a train somehow. They can't be here anymore if they're starting to close in on me."

"I know. Give me a couple of days. I can put something together for you."

"Thank you, but what about you and your family? What are you going to do?"

"I'm working on something. I'll stay here until I absolutely can't stay anymore." Then he mumbles something for a while that I can't make out.

"I see," Olin replies. Whatever it was makes perfect sense to him.

"The Peacekeepers still haven't found the spot on the fence," my dad says.

"Well, they wouldn't since it doesn't look any different than the rest of it. We made sure of that. A few shocks here and there, but nothing that killed us. It would've helped to actually have the guys from 3 there in person though instead of just having instructions. I was convinced that we didn't know what we were doing for a while there," he laughs.

"But, you weren't able to find it?"

"There's no way I could tell by looking at the map. No one could. We just kept wandering in circles marking the trees. I thought we could use the markings to find the clearing, but we ended up having to use them to find out own way back. I still have no idea where that clearing is. I'm sorry."

"_If it's supposed to lead to something, then they must not know where it is. These are all too scattered to be a trail."_

"It's fine. I think I have a way of finding it."

"I just wish that we could've at least already had an idea of its location."

"Well, hopefully we won't have to use it."

When I see Olin stand up and collect his things, I dart down the hallway and down the stairs. Dara looks at me like I'm crazy, as I run in the living room and sit down normally.

"Where did you go," she asks.

"Nowhere," I reply quickly.

"You were listening, weren't you?"

"You know how friends have little secrets between each other, Dara? Why don't we make this one of ours, okay," I say, putting my finger to my lips. She laughs. She definitely shouldn't know what they were speaking about.

Our fathers come downstairs, Olin getting Dara together to go. They don't miss a beat, though. They laugh and make jokes, hiding the tense conversation they were just having. It's hard for me to keep up the same façade with the information that I have now.

Once they've gone and my father retires to talk with my mom, I go up to my room to think. So many of my questions were answered. The dead spot on the fence was created by my father's group. What shocks me even more was that it was with the help of District 8. But, it makes sense that the technology district would know how to manipulate the fence. That's why Gale and I didn't understand how it was done. And, my mind is put at great ease knowing that Katniss and Peeta were being protected by the other Victors. I try and remember who's from the allied ones. The only one that I remember is Finnick and the Johanna Mason girl. _Good allies to have,_ I think.

However, with many questions answered, more questions emerge. What happened to Cinna? He always seemed like such a nice man. Katniss always spoke of him with the highest praise, which is unheard of for any Capitol people. I would hate for something terrible to happen to him. I hadn't the slightest clue that he was involved, but thinking back on it, I can't see how I could've missed it. Why was he involved, though? And these secret plans that they were talking about. Something with the arena. Something else with the woods. It doesn't make sense. They were marking the trees to get to a clearing. What clearing and why is it so important to get there? I sit at my vanity and brush my hair, sorting through my thoughts. And, amidst those thoughts, Gale pops ups again.

I want to tell him everything I heard; everything I know. I want him to know, so he won't feel like he has to fight anymore. After feeling the sadness of his presumed death once, my heart hurts at the thought of feeling that again. I care about him a lot and… wait, no! I don't mean to think that. I mean I do, but I shouldn't be thinking about him like that; not anymore. Maybe at one time, as a thirteen and fourteen and fifteen-year-old, it was okay to entertain my little feelings. But, not anymore. I'm done with my frilly infatuations with the strawberry boy. I'm more mature than that. Now, I have too much to worry about, and so does he. And, he has Katniss and Katniss has… Peeta… but… still! That's wrong of me. My feelings can't come back. I told myself to leave it alone. I'm just confused, that's all. I'm mistaking our new friendship for romantic feelings. It's wrong of me to think such things. I ponder for a second.

Is it, though?

Is it so wrong of me? I'm not the only one who's looked at Gale like that. Plenty of girls in my year alone would gush over him all the time. Katniss knows that. Why is it so wrong for _me_ to do the same? Well, Katniss is my friend, though. That's what makes it wrong. She's the one that's meant to marry him, not me. He doesn't see me in that way at all anyway. We're just too different, me and him. They're much more compatible. She'll marry him, and I'll marry some merchant boy, and everything will be as it should, I guess. Gale is a great catch. He's a good provider and strong, with a bit of a funny side, even if he doesn't always show it. He'll make a great husband for her. She'll be very happy. I won't ever be his Katniss.

I look in the mirror and gasp when I see that I've subconsciously braided my hair in a single, long braid over my shoulder. I quickly unravel it.

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A/N: Someone's in denial. lol.

If you guys like more romanticalness (yep, I made that up), stay tuned for the next chapters! And, as always, thanks for everything!


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N**: So, huge honor. A wonderful user named TRISTIA has decided to translate my fic into Russian for her HG community. I'm so happy that she cared enough to even doing that. If you're reading this, thank so much again! She even made an awesome banner to go along with it. Here is a link to the site and the banner:

.ru/~?from=last&discuss

I'm happy that people are reading this fic of mine! Thanks you guys :D

Oh and, this and the next chapters are what I call the "cute/sweet" chapters. lol. Hope you like it!

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In need of things to do, I go into town again. I trek the streets in my hooded jacket, holding on to my umbrella. Even though rain is almost certain today, it's much more crowded than is usually is this time of the afternoon. Of course, with the mines destroyed, none of the miners are working. I feel bad, thinking of what will happen to them. Unless they have some other trade, they won't get much money. The district promises half pay for a year, but with their wages already cut, they might as well not get any money at all. Even Hazelle's laundry business won't be enough to sustain her family. The looks of despair and mourning read clearly on their faces. It's all too sad.

On top of that, mom really isn't doing well again. If anything, she's feels worse than she did yesterday and the day before. Her headaches are becoming more intense to the point where it's taking more and more medicine to ease her pain. I figure that I can pick something up for her to lighten her mood. Some flowers would be nice. She's always enjoyed daisies, so I buy a bouquet of them. I'm easily distracted when it comes to flowers, though. Growing up, they were my only real connection to the nature of the outside world. I stay at the florist stand just admiring the different colors of flowers and the lovely scents they carry. I especially love this time of year, because there are all sorts of new flowers. Smelling them is uplifting, given the week's circumstances.

"Did you see it last night," I overhear one man telling another as he passes by me, "Acid fog or something. Took out the old lady."

"Crazy," the other man replies.

"Well, the Everdeen girl is still hanging in there. Baker's son, as well."

"Hey, maybe we'll get more food rations again this year, too."

"Maybe they'll actually give it to us this time."

I sigh out of relief. They're okay. They're still okay. That's exactly what I needed to hear during a time like this. But, my goodness. Acid Fog? What is going on in there?

"Madge," someone calls to me. I turn around to see Hazelle's smiling face. She's with the smaller boy and the little girl and holding a basket of vegetables. "I thought that was you."

"Oh, hello, Mrs. Hawthorne. How are you," I smile.

"I'm doing well. Managing, at least. Just out getting some shopping done. I don't think you've formally met these two. This is Vick, and this is Posy."

"Hello, it's a pleasure to meet you two. I'm Madge. I came by your house a few days ago."

Vick waves confidently, while Posy hides behind her mother's skirt. Her black hair is tied in a ponytail, and her little gray eyes look at my warily. She's shy. She reminds me of… well, me. I pull three of the flowers out of my bouquet and bend down to her level. I hold them out to her. She looks up at Hazelle for reassurance.

"A posy for Posy," I say cheerfully. She grins and giggles and finally takes the flowers. Hazelle nudges her lightly.

"Thank you." Her shy demeanor even comes out in her words.

"I love children," I say to Hazelle, shrugging my shoulders.

"Well, I've got plenty," she jokes, "Those are beautiful flowers."

"They're for my mother. She's not feeling well."

"That's sweet of you. She'll definitely appreciate it. Gale did the same thing for me when I was sick one time."

"Daisies are her favorite kind."

"What a kind daughter." I suddenly feel bashful hearing her say that.

A few rain drops fall, and those drops turn into a sudden downpour. The streets clear when everyone scatters into the stores. We duck into the grocer, and find a couple of seats in the cramped store. Posy sits on Hazelle's lap, while Vick takes a seat on the ground. I offer my chair, but he's quite content. Hazelle tells me about how things have been since the explosion. She's had to wash double-time with the help of Gale, who isn't very happy about not working at all. She's also been helping out some of her friends' families who are having particularly hard times, most of them grieving over the deaths of loved ones. Mrs. Hawthorne is such a strong person. To be able to care for her family and pick up others, too, is nothing short of awe-inspiring. I see where Gale gets it from.

"Katniss is doing very well," she begins, "Such an odd game this year, though."

"Why do you say that?"

"It just seems like, after the initial brutal slaughter of the first day, no one is really even fighting each other. The only ones attacking are the Victors from District 2. And, this arena. It's something I've never seen before. I think _it's_ a bigger threat that the other competitors."

"Yes, I know they usually set up awful things in the arena."

"That's true, but it seems like they really went out for this one. Just about every corner of the arena is filled with something deadly. They had this fog that killed the woman from District 4. And, one person was blown to bits in another part. With all of these traps, I'm guessing that they're not preparing for a long game. They're being particularly ruthless this year." She doesn't say it, but we're both thinking it. It's only because of Katniss. It always is.

"I had no idea. I don't allow myself to watch the games."

"Gale doesn't either. I'm happy that he doesn't, though. He was a complete mess the last time when he did watch them. Angry all the time." She stares at me with a very motherly look. "I'm so pleased that he has you around this time."

"Heh," I begin nervously, "I'm just someone to bug him. If that helps take his mind off the games, then I'm glad that I could be of service."

"Are you meeting tonight?"

"No, this weather probably won't let up anytime soon. But, maybe we could meet tomorrow around six?"

"I'll let him know"

"Where is he anyway," I ask as if it's a passing thought.

"At home. I figured that he needed his rest after all that's happened."

"Oh yes, of course."

"I think he'll be disappointed when I tell him I ran into you, though. Maybe he _should_ have come along, after all. I swear he talks about you so much." I have to double take when she says that.

"Pardon?" Certainly, she's not talking to me anymore.

"He does. I was humming a song the other day; he said he heard you playing it. He saw this vase in a shop, said it looked like your mother's. He said something about you wanting to learn how to make traps and snares. I don't think he even notices it anymore. He just talks." I can't hide my blushing cheeks.

"He talks?" I laugh and she does, too. "Honestly, that must mean that he's tired of hanging around me so much. I'm cluttering his brain."

"I wouldn't say that. He never sounds fed up with you. It's good to hear him enthusiastic about something, every now and then. To get the boy to smile is already a chore half of the time, especially lately. So, if I can get a smile _and_ enthusiasm out of him, well then, it's a good day."

"That's wonderful to hear, but I assure that I have nothing to do with it." I really want to convince her of that.

"You really don't give yourself any credit, Madge.

We talk a little more. The rain has slowed down a little. Enough to walk home at least. I throw my hood on, which almost comes down over my eyes, and get ready to throw my umbrella up. But, I see Hazelle place her jacket over Posy's head while Vick picks up some pieces of paper to cover his. I can't just let them go all the way back home with only that protecting them. They'll all get pneumonia.

"You can take my umbrella. My hood is plenty of covering."

"Oh no, we'll be all right." Thunder rolls loudly, and she looks out at the torrential rain. "Well, maybe it would be better." I smile as I hand it to her.

"What would you like for it," she asks.

"For what?"

"The umbrella. If you're letting us use it, we have to give you something in return."

"No you don't. You need it more than I do right now. I insist. I can come back and get it another time. I've got another one at home, anyway."

"Thank you," she says, reluctantly accepting my bargain. She huddles the children together and steps outside of the store. "You really are a nice girl."

She waves goodbye and I wave back as they go their separate way. Fastening my jacket shut, I enter the deluge with a smile on my face. I didn't think that I'd had any impact on the guy, let alone a positive one. I don't put too much stock into her words. I know that she would never lie, but mothers are known to exaggerate the truth some. Still, it's great to hear her say that. Gale would never tell me anything of the sort. He hardly acts like he's meeting with me for any other reason than for charity. But, then I think back to our recent meetings, and I realize something. He came to my house twice, and suggested that we meet once. Until today, I hadn't initiated a get-together since the first time I proposed it. He's been the one to do so. Mrs. Hawthorne could be telling the truth. That still doesn't mean anything, I tell myself.

When we do meet up in the meadow, he is behaving differently than usual. He lies on his back in the grass with his arms folded behind his head, and I sit near him with my legs stretched out. He tells me about helping his mother with the laundry and visiting the Everdeens today. I go on about some odd people I saw in town this morning. Our conversation is normal. Almost too normal. I wonder if Hazelle told him about what she told me. He stops talking for a while. It's as if he's hiding. Or questioning. I can't quite tell. I break the silence first.

"What?"

"What?" He turns his head to me with a curious glare.

"You look like you want to say something," I tell him, "What is it?"

"I was just thinking about something you said."

"What did I say?"

"Before, you said that your mother is sick. What happened?" Well, he is getting quite personal. He sits up to listen to me. It's one of the few times that he actually seems to be paying attention to what I'm saying.

"Um, I'm not quite sure. She's had headaches for years, but they've really only gotten terribly bad recently. Some days she's able to get up and move around. Other days, she just stays in bed, and I have to give her something to put her to sleep. That way she's not in pain anymore… well, temporarily."

"Katniss told me a little bit about it before, but I still didn't really know. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. She manages to keep herself afloat, so that's all that matters."

"Taking care of people must be like nothing to you, then."

"Well, it always means something to me."

"No, I mean it's like second nature for you."

"Oh, I guess it is. I've been helping to care for my mother for a while, so I always want to help when I can."

"Is that why you brought the medicine?"

"What medicine?"

"The medicine that you brought me when I… was hurt at Katniss' house"

"H… How did you know?" I specifically made it a point to not tell Gale. I didn't want him to question why I'd bring it or feel like he owed me something.

"I was talking to my mom about you," he begins. "It was after you got really upset with me."

"What did she say?"

"That I was wrong to say all of that to you, only she didn't say it so nicely," he laughs, "Then, she told me what you did. You walked to the Everdeen's with the medicine. She said it was your mother's. I remember it was snowing that day… really bad." He stops for a moment. Oh no, here it comes. "Why did you do it?"

"Well," I say, "I knew that you had to be in a world of pain after that. That's the medicine that my mother uses for her headaches when they get really bad. The one that knocks her right out"

"But, why bother?"

"Why not? What happened to you was terrible! I saw that someone I knew personally was in dire need, and I had something to remedy the situation a tiny bit. I don't see how I couldn't have wanted to help."

"I don't remember a whole lot about it. I don't even remember being taken to Katniss'. I just remember blinding pain for so long, and then I was asleep."

"I hated Thread that day. I still do." Uh oh, I'm talking too much. I need to stop, but I can't. "He had no right to do anything of the sort. He just beat you like he was getting some kind of enjoyment out of it. I wanted to hurt him, I did. But, what did I do? I just sat back watched. I watched you get torn apart repeatedly, while I just hid out in the crowd. It was Katniss and the others that finally stepped in to stop it. They're really the ones who helped you. I just delivered a box."

I angrily rip grass out of the ground and throw it down. I've always replayed that scene in my head. Gale being strapped to a pole. The cracking sound of the whip, a sound that I'd never heard before in my life and never wish to hear again. The blood that spilled on to the cracks of the cobblestone streets. Seeing Gale slumped over, me hoping that he wasn't dead. Hoping, that was all I did. I never realized how much that bothered me until now. It bothered me that I didn't step forward and attempt to stop anything. After seeing the Peacekeeper getting beaten for stepping up to Thread, I was afraid. But, would Thread really have risked beating me, the daughter of the mayor? Maybe I could've done a better job of stopping the whipping than the Peacekeeper had, but I didn't. Gale puts his hand over the grass on the ground in front of me. It's not until he moves it that I realize that I've pulled out a large patch of grass and roots, leaving nothing but dirt behind.

"I don't think the grass did anything to you," he says, "That was obviously a pretty important box that you delivered. It's really late, but thanks for that."

"Oh please, don't mention it," I say dismissively.

"I'll have to pay you back."

"That's not necessary. You're in no debt to me."

"That stuff must have been expensive. You have to want something for it."

"I can't just do things because I care? Sometimes that's the only reason you have to have to do something for someone. You just care about them, and that's all you need to know." I didn't mean to say that, but I don't take it back. I run with it. "It just like when I do things for my mother or Katniss or anyone. When I help you, Gale, I'm not doing it because I want something in return. I'm doing it because I care about you." He looks confounded by me. I'm just full of surprises, I guess.

"Yeah, I… can see what you're talking about." I look down at him looking back at me, hoping that he understands what I'm saying.

He lies down on his side and props himself up with one arm. I pull my knees up to my chest and sit my chin on top of them. My hair falls over my arms. I look ahead at the Seam. The electricity is on much longer than usual, so the streets gleam with scattered lights. Some time passes by without a word. Part of me hopes that I didn't say too much, too soon. But at the same time, it felt good to say. There's no harm in telling someone that you care about them. I could mean anything, right? I care about a lot of people.

There's a light tugging at the tip of my hair. No, it's not a tug. It's more like a stroke. I raise my hand to swat the culprit away, likely a bug, I think, until I realize that they're human hands. I turn my head back slightly, but he doesn't notice it. Gale just mindlessly fiddles with my hair. What's he doing that for? He doesn't even seem to be paying attention to anything. He spins a wavier lock around his fingers gently. I wonder if he's aware of what he's doing. He surely doesn't seem like it. His eyes, true to his nature, are far away, indicating that he's thinking of something else entirely. My hair was just something to focus on, like with me and my grass-pulling. It could've just as easily been a blade of grass or thread on his clothes. I don't bother stopping him, though. Whatever it is that he's thinking about so intensely must be important, because he looks mesmerized by it.

I smile to myself. This is what I would've loved to have a couple of years ago. Just me and him. Not at odds anymore. Not being indifferent towards each other. A fifteen-year-old Madge would've thought that perhaps she was getting through to him. She would've thought that maybe, just maybe, there was a possibility there that she hadn't seen before. She would've thought that he could possibly start seeing her as more than just a girl from town. What a silly little girl she was.

It's nothing, Madge. Put it out of your mind. It means nothing.


	15. Chapter 15

Sorry for the long update for you guys that are reading. I've been playing nurse for my mommy. lol.

Once again, another cute/sweet chapter. I really tried to get this one right hehe

Hope you like it!

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Of course, it's nothing. That's why I'm walking down to his house in this sweltering hot weather for no reason whatsoever. I'd put on my nice denim cropped pants with a fitted red and white shirt. I washed my hair with my mother's special soap that makes her hair look very glossy and smell like vanilla. I fought with her mascara brush for twenty minutes and dusted on a little bit of pale pink lip color. I even sprayed a bit of her lavender perfume on my neck and wrists. All for no reason of course.

He doesn't know that I'm coming, and I don't even know if he's there. Really, I'm trying to figure out my reason for coming down here. I _think_ that, after spending the whole night fighting with myself about him, I need to prove to myself that there's nothing there. That any butterflies I get around him were strictly reflexive reactions, and that they don't indicate any hint of a childish crush resurfacing. That I didn't stop him from touching my hair that night only because I didn't want to distract him, and not because I enjoyed the feeling. To prove that I can just hang out with him and not feel anything. So, I'm not sure why I felt the need to dress up so much today to do so.

Stepping up to the door, I hear him talking. All right, here goes nothing. I knock three times, and take a deep breath. When Gale answers the door, his hands are visibly tied. Loads of laundry are scattered in piles over the floor. He _definitely_ wasn't expecting me or any other company right now. He stands shirtless with blue jeans on, carrying his sleepy-looking sister, who's holding her doll and playing with the hair.

"Hey," he says with an unusually warm smile.

"Hey right back," I'm not used to seeing a guy without a shirt on, so I'm sure that my face will turn red at any second. I quickly shift my attention to Posy, "Hello, Posy."

She waves her tiny hand silently but is obviously preoccupied with her doll. I giggle at the tot, remembering when I was like that.

"Do you mind if I hang out a bit?"

"Nope. I'm trying to get her to lie down and go to sleep," Gale says stepping aside to let me in.

"I'm not sleepy, Gale," Posy chimes in the sweetest little voice.

"You always say that," he replies in a lighter voice than his normal one, "but, I can tell when you are, like now."

"No, I'm not," she yawns. Not very convincing, Posy. "I just wanna play with you."

"I promise we'll play when you wake up. I won't go anywhere. But, we can't play _until_ you wake up, so you have to go to sleep first." He flicks her playfully on the nose.

It's so strange to see Gale interacting with anyone so light-heartedly. Even after spending time with him these past few days, it's hard to imagine any sort of softness to him. By this time the little girl has abandoned her doll and lays her head on Gale's shoulder with her arms hanging around his neck. Her eyes droop low and then pop back open, like she trying to fight the sleep. But, it's no use. All it takes is few strokes of his hand through her hair, and she's out. He walks around carrying her for a little longer to be sure she stays asleep. Each time his back is to me, I feel a twinge of pain. I can still see the scars from the whip all across his skin.

"I'm gonna go put her down," he says as he walks into a back room. He closes the door gently once he emerges, holding a black t-shirt. "So, what are you here for?"

"Nothing. Just saying hello."

"Just saying hello?" He slips the shirt over his head.

"Yes. I take it that you're helping your mother?"

"It gives me something to do. She's up at Haymitch's again. I think she just does it out of habit now. I've got to separate all of these."

"My goodness. Have you even started yet?" He looks at me as if it was obvious that he had.

"Clean jeans, dirty jeans, collared shirts, dark collared shirts, dresses, dirty, needs to be folded, you get the picture." He takes a seat on a very small stool. It's clear that it was made for Hazelle and not someone his size. I sit on the couch and eye a pile at my feet.

"_These_ need to be folded?" I point down at them.

"Yeah"

I lift up a brown dress, that looks as clean as new now, and start to fold it. I might as well make myself useful while I'm here. I finish up two more pieces of clothing, and place them in a neat stack. He looks over his shoulder at me then turns back around. It is too hot. There is little air circulating in the house. I have no idea how he managed to accomplish separating this much in this heat. I feel as if I'm about to pass out. It, along with my meticulous and obsessive eye for folding detail, is really slowing my work down. Then, Gale lifts his head up and looks around suspiciously.

"What's that smell?" I sniff around, not knowing what he's talking about.

"I don't smell anything."

"Are you wearing perfume?"

"Heh," I say nervously, "Yeah, I was playing around with my mother's perfumes and oils and such. I'm sorry if it smells bad. I probably put too much on."

"I didn't say it smelled bad. I was just wondering what it was."

"So, it _doesn't_ stink?"

"No, it smells good," he says nonchalantly. I lightly inhale the scent on my wrist, happy with the job the perfume has done.

He goes back to sorting out clothes, while I continue folding. I start doing exactly what I came here to not do. This was supposed to be my chance to convince myself not to see him as anything more than a friend, but I'm not doing a very good job of it. I find myself staring again. Staring at his back as he hunches over in the stool. Staring at his arms and hands as they sift through the piles of laundry. Staring at his dewy, olive skin that looks to be more sun-kissed than usual.

"What are you looking at?"

"Huh?" Goodness, why does he always catch me?

"You were looking at me just now."

"No, I wasn't. I was just dazed is all."

"Oh," he says as he tosses the last shirt into the clean jeans pile, not pressing any further. Whew, I lucked out. "That's done with. What about those?"

"Uh well," I say, looking at the pile in front of me, "Not quite."

He gets up and sits next to me on the sofa, picking up a pair of pants. He folds them much more delicately than I would've thought and places them in his own stack. Though his stack is getting higher than mine, I do take pride in the fact that my folds look a hair neater than his. I snicker to myself. He stays concentrated on the clothes. I'm doing it again. My eyes somehow keep wandering over. But, every so often out of the corner of my eye, I'll catch him doing the same. Stop looking at me, Gale. You're not helping. Why am I feeling this again? Why can't I just turn off my emotions like I did the last time? It's no different than the one-sided crush that I had before, so why subject myself to this again? I know where his heart lies, and it's nowhere with me.

After ten minutes, we have them all folded. He leans back and covers his eyes with his arm. Despite his less than gloomy behavior, something is bugging him again. He sits back up and rests his arms on his legs, looking on the ground.

"What's on your mind?" He doesn't answer for a long time.

"I watched the games last night."

"Oh, Gale. I thought we agreed not to watch them. I told you it was a bad idea," then a jolting feeling comes over me, "Wait, is she okay? Is she alive?"

"Yeah, she's fine." I sigh out of relief, forcing myself to calm down.

"And Peeta?"

"He is, too. Apparently, she's pregnant and they're already married."

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

"No, not really," he looks down at the back of his hands while he goes on, "She kissed him again."

"She always kisses him." Ouch. That didn't come out like I meant for it to.

"There was something different about this time. It seemed more personal."

"Oh," is all I can manage for a moment, "I'm sorry that you saw that."

"He gave her a locket. It had pictures in it. One of Prim and Mrs. Everdeen and… one of me."

"You? Why would he do that? Do you think it was for show?"

"No," he says, shaking his head melancholically. He continues with a strained voice, "You know, he really is a good guy, isn't he? I think he means well. I don't know why he's so nice, but I guess he is. And, he looks out for her. That's good. I like that." I'm beyond shocked by what he's saying. He doesn't look like he was too happy saying it either.

"He _is_ nice. A wonderful person. He's got a really good head on his shoulders and a big heart."

"The thing was, when I saw all of that, it hurt me a lot and it still does, but it didn't bother me as much. Not like I thought it would at least. Not like the last time. I thought I'd be ready to jump through the screen and tear Peeta to shreds myself, but I wasn't. I didn't really understand why not. It just wasn't as painful."

"That's great," I smile. I'm glad that he's being so mature about it. It hurts that he realized this too late, though, because only one of them, if that, is coming home, "What changed?" He pauses for a while.

"I'm not sure. A lot of things, I guess. The way I see things and people around me. It's not the same anymore," he says. I'm not quite sure what that's supposed to mean, but it makes me smile anyway.

"I'm happy to hear that." Finally, something's gotten through his stubbornness.

"It was probably a good idea. Sticking together through this. It… helps… a lot," he forces out, as if it pains him to admit that I was right all along, "Thanks."

"I told you before," I say as I grab his hand gingerly, "I needed someone there for me, too."

Possibly the touch is a bit too personal. My smile wipes away quickly. I go to pull my hand away from his, but when I do, he clutches it back, not letting me go. In my mind, I tear my hand away and go home before I let myself get out of hand. But, in reality, I don't move. My heart races madly. We meet each other's eyes, with all seriousness on our faces. His beautiful irises catch the sunlight. I don't know what to think. I don't think. Maybe he doesn't think either. We lean in to each other and press our lips together. Closing my eyes, I let my other senses take over. His scent is that of pine and clean linen, which must be from his shirt. His hands are rough and warm, one still holding my hand, the other sweeping down the side of my face. His lips feel even softer moving against my own. My eyes fly open, and I pull away in confusion.

"Wait, what," I question.

"I don't know," he says as he pulls me back to him.

The springs of the sofa dig into my legs a bit, but I try not to pay attention to it. I block out everything but him. I let my fingers tangle in his hair, while he moves his hands up and down my back. I scoot in closer as we deepen our kiss, touching his face softly. This isn't what I'd expected. This rush of emotions and adrenaline. The way he's holding me. The way I'm holding him back. The way it feels so right. I didn't think this was going to happen, but I had hoped. No matter how much I tried to deny, this is what got me out of bed this morning, made me dress up and come all the way down here. I had hoped that it would come to this.

I've never even kissed a guy before, though. I hadn't thought about that. I wonder if I'm even doing anything right. I have no idea how to kiss "correctly," if there is a correct way of doing so. I'm a probably a nightmare right now. What am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to be sexy and seductive? Do I bite his lip or something? No, I don't think I should do that. It sounds painful. Part of me laughs at the thought. I don't want to look like a fool, but that's likely exactly what I look like. It's okay. I've seen people kiss before. There isn't much to it, is there? Right?

I lean back against the arm of the couch, wringing my fingers in his shirt to pull him down with me. His hand moves slowly from my arm, down my side and to my leg. Chills. They overcome me. He kisses my face and moves his lips to the top of my neck. I take a deep gulp and hold on to his hair nervously. My other hand fumbles around naively before settling on his back. I figure that I should move my hand, too, since that's what he did. I awkwardly trace my fingers over the uneven ridges of his back. As much as I try, I can't stop my hands from trembling. I must have done something funny, because I feel his laugh on my neck. He slides back up and gives me an amused look. He knows that I don't know what I'm doing. I simply shrug my shoulders and laugh, too. He moves a wandering piece of hair out of my face and kisses my lips again. His fingers comb through my hair gently, and he tucks a piece behind my ear. I give up trying to look like an expert and let him take over, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck.

Suddenly, I hear the sound of approaching voices. About three of them. The first voice I notice is Rory's. The other two must be Hazelle and Vick. They're coming up to the door now.

"Gale," I say in a loud, breathy whisper, He doesn't notice at first, so I nudge him roughly in the chest, "Gale! Your mother is here!"

Like a quick flash of lightning, he jumps up from on top of me and straightens out his clothes. I smooth my hair down and fix myself up, as well. But, feeling my face, I can tell that my cheeks are flushed. Well, there's not much I can do about that now because I hear them opening the door. I'm thankful that I can use the hot weather as an excuse if I need to. Gale has positioned himself back at the stool, and I look as normal as possible on the sofa. The family comes in unaware of what had just occurred.

"Hey, Madge," Rory greets.

"Hey, Madge," Vick follows, even louder than Rory.

"Keep it down, you guys. Posy is sleeping," Gale says it so naturally. It takes me a minute to even register and formulate a proper sentence.

"Hi, Rory. Hi, Vick. And hello, Mrs. Hawthorne."

"Hello, Madge. I didn't know you would be coming by."

"I was just bored at home, so I came to see what you all were up to." That sounds believable enough.

"The boys came up to Haymitch's house with me. Just for a little spot-cleaning. Then, we went to the Everdeens. They're doing all right. Rory played with Prim some. And, Gale, they said to tell you 'hello.' I'm glad you were able to get Posy down. She was quite the little fighter earlier."

"Sounds like her brothers," I say.

"You might be right about that," she replies laughing. Then, she looks at me closely, and furrows her brows. She walks up where I'm sitting, "Madge, honey, are you sick?"

"No, not at all." She puts the backs of her hands on my cheeks. What's she doing? Is something wrong?

"Do you have a fever? Your face is so red." Oh, that's what it is. I see Gale out of my peripheral, smirking a little smugly.

"Ah ha, no. It's just really hot today."

She looks at me as if she's unsure if she believes me but doesn't press much further. She does glance at Gale skeptically. He doesn't pay her any attention. He takes her cleaning products from the boys and puts them under the kitchen sink. She yells for him to get me some water. I glance beside me on the seat and see a crumpled and flattened shirt, crushed under my back. I snatch it up and smooth out the creases as if it was a piece of evidence that I'm hiding from Hazelle. I sloppily fold it and put it on the stack.

Hazelle isn't oblivious. She knows what happened. I just wish that I knew, too. My heart beats still haven't completely slowed down yet. Why did he kiss me? It had to have been just because he was upset with Katniss. But, but he _wasn't_ upset with her. He wasn't even upset with Peeta. It was like he'd come to terms with them. So, why would he kiss me? I run my fingers across my lips, still able to feel his on them.

"Madge, you look out of it right now. Are you sure that you're feeling well?" Her expression makes it obvious that she _really_ doesn't believe me now.

"Yes, I'm great. I mean, I feel just fine."

"I forgot," Vick jumps up and runs into the kitchen, nearly bowling down Gale as he approaches with a glass of water. He returned, holding something out to me, "Here's your umbrella back."

"My umbrella?"

"The one we used the other day."

"Oh yeah. You can keep it. I've got others that I use more."

"Really? Thanks!" He and Rory run into the kitchen, out of ear shot.

"Vick hasn't stopped asking about you since that day," Hazelle whispers to me, as Gale sits back down at the table, "Rory does the same thing. It seems that my boys have taken a liking to you, Madge. They all fancy you _quite_ a bit."

I choke on my sip of water, unable to stop my coughs for a moment. Gale's shoulder clinches. She's good. She's very good. Oh yes, she knows something.

"Well, you have very nice boys, Mrs. Hawthorne. I'm… glad that I've made a… good impression on them." She nods her head, inquisitively. She looks at me, who is looking at Gale, who is looking away, guiltily. All right, this is just getting entirely too uncomfortable. "I'm going back home now, I guess."

Gale stands up and jumps at the opportunity to get rid of me. He must be feeling the same thing that I am.

"I'll walk you out."

"Have a nice day," I wave as I'm lead out of the door.

"Same to you, Madge," Hazelle calls back with a grin.

He closes the door behind him. I'm relieved until I catch a glimpse of his expression. Looking at him now makes me nervous. He places his hand on his waist and scratches his head with the other. His lips purse together, and he glances around before stopping at me. I don't like the look on his face. It's a look that reeks of apologies and regret. I should've known it was coming, but I still don't want to hear it. He lets out a deep sigh and just stares at me for a minute. Great, here it comes. I can feel the embarrassment creeping up. Curse that stupid ounce of optimism. It's best that I just turn around and go home.

"Look, Madge…" he begins, but I hold my hand up to keep him from finishing.

"No. Not yet. Please let me be happy about it for a while before you give me the 'I shouldn't have done that' speech."

"Okay?"

"I mean it was nice. I liked it. I _certainly_ liked it. Loved it even, and I just want to enjoy that feeling for a little bit longer before you mess it up."

"You…"

"I'll just leave now, so things won't be awkward, and we'll promise that we won't mention this ever …"

I'm cut off when he grabs my face and kisses me. He did it again! Doesn't he care that someone will see? Then, I snap out of it. Oh, well. Let them then. I place my hand on his chest and kiss him back. He holds me closely, gripping his hands on my hips. I hear the sound of boys' laughter coming from inside the house. I sneak one eye open and see Vick and Rory peeking at us out of the front window. Vick has his hands over his mouth trying to hide his giggles. Rory simply looks intrigued by the sight. _Puberty_, I think. Hazelle's hands yank the boys back away from the window. After a few more quick pecks, we pull back. I blink rapidly and stare up at him.

"You talk too much, Undersee," he smiles as he turns and walks to the steps, "I'll see you later."

"O… Okay, yeah." I sound like one of the silly girls from school.

As I walk across town, I struggle to understand what it all meant. I left my house hoping to be rid of an infatuation, and I'm going back home more reassured of it than ever. It's the first time that I truly entertain my hopes. _He_ kissed _me_. I can't deny that to myself anymore. I didn't pressure him to, at all. He did it. Whatever, his reasons were mean little to me right now. I just imagine his hands on me and around me, and the amazing feeling fills me up once more. What have we started, Gale?

I can't help but smile and giggle as I walk up the hill to my house, until I reach my lawn. The sight I catch is shocking enough to stop me cold in my tracks. Wind blows my hair as I look on with a sunken heart. This can't be good.

No. No, why now?


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N**: Thanks again, you guys! As always many many appreciations for your responses :D

And, now... Let the drama commence.

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Seven officers in white uniforms walk up to my front door. I approach the walkway cautiously. They don't have any guns drawn. If they were making an arrest, they would've just burst in and taken us. Whatever they are here for, it's clearly not the time to be thinking about any kiss. _Just breathe, and be normal_, I have to remind myself. I creep up behind them, quietly. One smaller man in the back with blonde hair sees me and taps a taller man on the shoulder. The tall man doesn't have to turn around for me to know who he is. I'd know his short, white hair and frightening build anywhere. Thread faces me and gives the creepy smile that seems to only be reserved for me.

"Miss Undersee, perfect timing," he growls in a cheerful low grumble, "Where is the mayor?"

"He's probably at the Justice Building like you all usually are," I say with a forced smile, but it is impossible to hide my hint of an attitude underneath, "I'm sure you can talk to him there."

"This is a personal call. It's best that we speak to him here."

"I assure you if you return in a few hours…"

"Please."

I squint at them, as I push through them to open the door. I swing around ready to slap a Peacekeeper when I feel one of them brush his hand across my backside. He apologizes sarcastically, as he flips his brown hair back, saying that it was an accident. I take a deep breath to ease my anger and enter the house. I don't see any sign of my father, but I can hear someone, likely my mother, shuffling around on the second floor; possibly in my father's study. The Peacekeepers pile in the living room. They don't sit. They just hover and look around suspiciously. Two of them, the golden-haired one and the brown-haired one, stare at me in an uncomfortable way and whisper to each other. Smirks sweep across their faces, making me thankful that I'm not here alone. I must remain cordial.

"Would you like something to eat or drink? We have tea." Can't forget my manners now, can I?

"No we're quite fine, thank you," Threads says, "Miss Undersee, I actually have some questions for you while you're here, if that's all right."

"Certainly"

"Is your father home very much?"

"He's the mayor. _Of course_ he's gone a lot," I have to remember to not sound defensive as to not give them even more reason to suspect. But, he brings out the worst in me.

"Do you know where he goes?"

"I already told you, Head Peacekeeper Thread. He's goes to the Justice Building."

"What does he do there?"

"Works as the mayor." He doesn't look pleased with my answers.

"Miss Undersee…"

"I don't think my daughter can help you much with any questions regarding my husband," My mother calls in a threatening voice as she weakly inches down the stairs, "And, he isn't home right now."

This is the first time that I've seen her up in three days. Her stringy gold hair hangs over her shoulder. Even though it is hot outside, she dons a red, velvet robe. Fancy slippers, easily mistakable for regular shoes, cover her feet. Her sunken cheeks and jaw clench with every step.

"Mom," I say as I run up and help her down the rest of the way.

"Mrs. Undersee, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard many things about you."

"Yes," is all she says as she sits in an arm chair, "You do know that you're allowed to sit down in here? There are more than enough seats for you all."

"Oh, it's okay. We don't intend on staying long.

It's not hard to detect the underlying detestation between the two of them, masked by venomously polite banter.

"I take it that Madge has offered you refreshments."

"Yes," he says nodding in my direction, "She was quite hospitable."

_Oh please_, I think.

"So, what is this meeting about?"

"It's concerning an arrest."

"An arrest of _whom_?"

"If you don't mind, I would prefer to discuss this with your husband."

"If _you_ don't mind, I would like to know why you have really come in _my_ home asking _my_ daughter questions about _my_ husband," she replies with more anger in her voice. I put my hand on her shoulder.

The front door opens up and my father enters, obliviously cleaning his glasses on his shirt. He looks up and is immediately perplexed by the ambush of Peacekeepers in his living room, all of us staring at him. He walks past them and stands with me and my mother. The feigned courtesy on Thread's face disappears when visually squares off with my father.

"Good evening, I wasn't expecting you to be here."

"Honey, they wanted to talk to you about a _nameless_ arrest," my mother says with a smile.

"An arrest?" Thread approaches my father holding a photo out. It's a picture of a man. He has been beaten so severely that, with his swollen and bruised face, you can't even tell who it is.

"Olin Lemmreck and his family were arrested yesterday under the suspicion of conspiracy." He waits for my father to react.

While he's keeping straight face, I know that he is as terrified for Olin as am I. I have to fight a gasp from escaping my mouth. He keeps a stern look and hands the picture back to Thread, who continues on with his questioning.

"Did you know him, Mayor Undersee?"

"Yes, he was a friend of mine from a long time ago. We'd only just started really talking again in recent years."

"We see them all as a threat to the safety of Panem."

"Where is he? I would like to speak to him."

"They were transported to the Capitol immediately following their arrest."

"Why did you take his family?"

"Anyone associated with a conspirator is viewed as being equally guilty and thus will receive equal punishment."

"His daughter is only _ten_. She has nothing to do with any conspiracy."

"It _was_ unfortunate that he put his daughter in such circumstances." Realization comes over my father's face, and I catch it as well. He's speaking of them in past tense.

"What have you done to them," he asks in a calculated tone, being sure not to give himself away.

"Mayor Undersee, you know full well the punishment for conspirators. There were no exceptions in their cases. You should be pleased. Your district is safer without them. Panem is safer."

"When?"

"This morning," Thread says coldly.

"Then why did you come here if it was already carried out?"

"We have reason to believe that Lemmreck had other conspirators in this district working with him. We just wanted you to be aware and keep an eye out for suspicious characters," he smiled with that eerie grin again.

"You already have the miners that you suspected."

"No, I don't think that we're dealing with miners in this case. I think this is someone else entirely. Someone smarter. Higher up, even."

"I will be on the lookout then. If you don't mind, though, my wife is in much need of her medicine, so I will have to wish you a good night, gentlemen."

"We appreciate your help, Mayor Undersee," he nods, then smiles at my mother and me, "Mrs. Undersee, Miss Undersee."

He and the others make their way out of the door. It wasn't until we saw them move down the street that we truly react to the news. Tears roll down my face as I think about the fate of that sweet little girl. She was tortured and killed for no reason. My mother buries her face in her hands and sobs. Then, she begins to groan in pain. The headaches must be coming back. I understand why. I stand up her up and begin to help her walk, but she places her hand on mine and shoos me off. The look in her eyes is that of pure terror. She looks at my father. He nods to her and she nods back in some sort of unspoken agreement. I don't think I'm meant to know what it's about. She retires upstairs after a last glance at me. My father walks past me to the door.

"Dad, where are you going?"

"I have to make an arrangement. Stay here."

"I don't think it's safe right…"

"Stay here," he demands, "Do not leave this house, and do not answer the door for anyone. I'll be back in a few hours."

"But, where are you going?"

"Stay here!"

And, with that command, he's out of the house. I hear his car start up and leave the driveway. I sit down on the chair and gaze blankly out of the window. What has this place come to? I feel like I'm in the middle of a warzone where there are no tanks, no military. Thread coming to my house, it must mean that we are suspects. Suspects in treason. As I saw, that label only comes with one penalty; death. No matter what happens with the rebellions, we're marked for death. Anyone associated with conspirators will share the equal punishment. I think about the Everdeens. Already in danger for their relation to Katniss, have I only made it worse for them by going to their house? And, then I think of Gale and his family. Gale, who was already threatened by the president and who could have died in an intentional mining accident, he is an easy target. I want to warn him, but I'm afraid that going back there would only increase all of the Hawthornes' chances of death. It's better that I keep my distance, as much as I now don't want to. Is this how Katniss felt when she was threatened? Did she worry about the safety of her loved ones, too? I have no doubt about it.

In the night, I sit on my bed surrounded by darkness, thinking and worrying. My father was gone for many hours doing whatever he was doing. I think that my mind is too clouded to bother asking him where he was, and right now, I'm sure that he wouldn't care to tell me. All he said to me was that I wasn't allowed to go anywhere tomorrow until he told me that I could. Why bother arguing with him? I can only think of Dara Lemmreck. I'd known her since she was only a toddler. We were just talking about her getting older, and now… nothing. She was drawing, smiling and joking right downstairs a few days ago. Tonight, I hear her screaming in my head. Screaming in agonizing pain, before they killed her. They killed a ten-year-old little girl with no ties to the rebellion but her father. It would be effortless to kill me, seventeen, who has both parents and friends involved. I never thought too much about my own life being in danger. I know my father hadn't either. But, now we all see how real the possibility is. That's what I've been listening to my parents discussing for the last hour. They're speaking so loudly in their room that I can hear every word through the vent in mine. My mother hasn't stopped crying.

"They're not going to hurt my baby! They won't!"

"Please, honey. Calm down," my father quickly replies, "Getting too excited isn't going to help you at all."

"No! I don't care about my health right now. Why do you think that came here today? They were warning us! Threatening us! They killed a child! They're not going to kill Madge, too!"

"I know they aren't. Everything will be all right. I promise it will be. She'll be fine."

"Whatever we have to do, do it. Anything."

"I will"

"Why did it come to this? And, after so long. We were careful as ever."

"I know. It's my fault. I'm the reason why you got into this. And, now, I've dragged our daughter down, too."

"No, don't say that. You know that isn't true."

"It is," he sorrowfully whispers. Dad, please don't ever think that, "I won't let what happened to Dara happen to Madge, you hear me?"

I hear them talk further, before I'm sure that they're asleep. I still can't sleep, though. My father has these plans of his that I know nothing about. I think back on his and Olin's conversation. He spoke of the fence. Yes. And, the clearing. And, then he mentioned the games, and… wait. The games! Something is supposed to happen in the games. I hadn't had the courage to watch them, but what if there's something that can tell me what plan they were supposed to have? On the other hand, I'm afraid of what I might see. This could be the night. The one night that I decide to watch it and something horrible happens. I… I just have to brave it.

I crack the door open and peak my head out. I don't see my dad. Looking down the hall, he's not in his study either. Perfect. I tip-toe to the study. Once inside, I turn on the television, and prop myself up against the desk. It's pitch black in the room, and the only light radiating is the light from the screen. I catch the end half of the commentators' frivolous conversation. They banter back and forth in a snobbish tone about what is going on.

"I'm not quite sure what they're trying to do with that wire. They explained it, but eh, it's always so hard to understand that technology nonsense," one man laughs.

"They are luring the tributes from 2 to the beach or something," another man says, confusion riddled in his words.

"I think they want to blow something up," a woman chimes in, "Well, with only eight contestants left, it's time to step it up. Let's look and see what is happening now."

The screen switches to a shot of the arena. It's Katniss! She walks with the girl from 7, who unravels a golden spool along the way. Seeing her after what feels like so long makes me feel so much better. She looks like she's in pretty decent condition. They cut to the District 2 tributes. My goodness, they're huge. Careers usually are, but I'm not used to seeing fully-grown, adult Careers in the arena. They're stalking throughout the lush jungle cutting away vines. This is what Katniss has been up against? I gain even more respect for her. They must not be doing anything interesting enough because they pan over to Peeta, Finnick, and an older man with glasses. I can only guess that this is the man from District 3, looking at the way he's handling the wire. Peeta looks worried sick, of course. They're working on tying the top end of the wire to a tree. I thought that the commentators were just being idiots, but they were right. I have no idea what is supposed to be going on with that wire.

The camera switches its attention back to Katniss and Johanna. Now, they look alarmed at the wire. It seems like it's been cut, from what I can see. I wait for them to show Peeta and the others, but they never do. Something is going on with Johanna. She doesn't look right. Her eyes dart around, but not like Katniss' are. It seems like she's looking for witnesses. Suddenly, while Katniss is distracted with the wire, Johanna flips. She takes the heavy spool in her hand and lunges it at Katniss' head. She falls to the ground instantly.

"Katniss," I scream as if she can hear me.

Then, I quickly cup my mouth in horror. I knew it. I knew that this would be the night. I close my eyes and cover them with my hands. The last glimpse I catch is that of Johanna burying her knife in Katniss' arm. Why? I thought that 7 was an ally. She's supposed to help keep her and Peeta safe. Why is she going to kill Katniss herself? I can't look. I can't look. It's too much. I wait to hear the dreadful sound of the death cannon. But, I hear the commentators instead.

"No, keep the shot on her," the woman says in a worried voice, "We've lost her feed. What are they doing in there?"

I open my eyes. She's not dead. She's just wandering around. No, she looks like she's trying to run. She's gripping the arm damaged by that conniving woman. The camera is following her and only her. Johanna has disappeared. Katniss suddenly ducks, and I can hear the sound of Finnick calling out for her. Soon after a cannon sounds, but it's not for Katniss. What is going on? It's all too confusing. They didn't even show who was killed. They only focus on Katniss. They lost her feed. They can't track her anymore? Is that what it is? How did that happen?

I watch in bewilderment. There are too many events happening all at once, yet they aren't showing us any of them. Back and forth. People are calling out for each other, running around. Awful sounds come from everywhere. It's a mad house. Two more cannons, still glued on Katniss. She takes a shot of one of her arrows into mid-air. What are you doing, Katniss? You're wasting an arrow. Then, it happens. The most brilliant burst of light fills the screen, followed by the sound of a great explosion. The female commentator screams.

"What just happened? What just hap…"

The screen goes black, and the Capitol crest appears in the middle of the screen. No anthem. It merely hovers there in silence. I'm frozen with my mouth and eyes wide open, filled with shock. What did I just see? I can't even sort out what might have even happened. I wanted to watch for clarification, but I got nothing of the sort; not even close. If anything, I am more confused than I have ever been and have more questions than I can even fathom. What ever happened in there wasn't supposed to happen. Or maybe it was. I don't even know anymore.

I stand in the middle of the room for twenty minutes, fixated on the screen, and it never changes. That's it? Is no one going to come on and say what happened? I'll even take a glossed over, Capitol version of events. But, there is nothing. I grudgingly switch the television off. Walking back to my room, I review the events. Firstly, Katniss isn't dead. Well, I'm not quite sure if she is now. I don't think so, but I don't know. I keep telling myself that she's all right, but with her protectors suddenly turning on her, it's a harder task to think so now. The wire. Okay, they were using it with somehow try to kill the Careers, well the Careers except for Finnick. Tributes are supposed to try and kill each other. That's normal. That doesn't seem like anything my father would've planned. Johanna nearly killed Katniss. That would've never been in my father's plans. They couldn't track her. All right, maybe that could be. Then, I think about Katniss shooting into the air. The arrow. Did I blink or did it disappear? And, that light. There's no way that any of the arena traps could've caused that. The commentator was as caught off guard as I was. I can't think right now. My head is spinning too much. I lie down in my bed waiting for sleep to come and rid my mind of worry for a bit.

It never comes.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N**: Once again, sorry for the forever update. Haven't been feeling well, but I'm better now.

This is my longest chapter by far, though. lol. And, I promise you guys, everything comes together in the end. I'm going to have to start getting the last few chapters up here in the next couple of weeks because I'm going out of the country for a month! So, that's the reason for the chunky chapters.

* * *

The next day, while confined in my house, I wait for my father to bring up the games. He's acting odd, so I'm sure that he knows what happened last night. I don't want to press him too much about it, though. He still looks upset about Mr. Lemmreck. He was more than just a fellow conspirator that was killed. He was his friend. On top of that, when he told the others what happened to Olin, they immediately backed out of anything pertaining to the rebellion. After ten years of working towards it, they just bowed out that quickly? This should've made them want to press forward even more. They should've seen it as the realest example of why the Capitol needs to be overthrown. But instead, they run away and hide. I see it as cowardly. My father still thinks otherwise.

"Can I truly fault them? They have no fingers pointing in their direction. They're not under any suspicion. They're safe, and they're trying to keep it that way. You have to understand, they have families, children and grandchildren, to protect. They saw how getting caught endangered all of their loved ones. Suspicion has never gotten this close to us before, let alone punishment. They want to get out of it before anything happens to them. I can't say that I wouldn't have done the same thing in their situation."

Well, I can say it. He would never turn his back on any of them. He would've taken whatever came with it if it meant that they were still able to get the help that they need.

"The only thing that really worries me is that I no longer have direct communication with Plutarch. That was Olin and Emmie Stuffolk who had that covered. But, with Olin gone and Emmie not wanting any part, I have to find out another way to get a hold of him. Through another district perhaps."

He was only gone to the Justice Building for two hours today. I don't see how he's able to even look at the officers, let alone work with them anymore. He's knows that they see him as a criminal; a criminal soon to be disposed of. They likely show him no respect, not that they had recently anyway. I think he is scared to leave us alone for too long, my mother and I. Afraid that the Peacekeepers will come again. I can't say that I don't worry about the same for him, too, every time he goes to that building.

My mother is in bed again. Lately, she's been getting much worse than she's been getting better. I'm sure that our visitors yesterday didn't help any. I woke up this morning to the sound of her crying. I thought that she was just still sad about the news, but they were cries of physical pain. She never actually cries because of her headaches. I can't figure out why she's not getting better.

My father and I sit at the dining table. He reads the paper, which I see mentions nothing of the Games, and I sew a couple of missing buttons back on to a shirt of mine. We'll make a little comment every now and then, but it's mostly silence. I guess I can push the issue a little bit.

"The phones in the Justice building have suddenly stopped working," he remarks sarcastically.

"Our phones probably have bugs in them."

"No, I've checked them thoroughly. The Everdeens', Peeta's and Haymitch's, as well."

"You know, Dad, they never came to interview us this time."

"Who?"

"The Capitol people. It was the final eight, and they were supposed to interview friends and families of the tributes back in the districts. Even though, both she and Peeta were in the final eight, they never came." He glances at me over the top of his glasses, studying my face.

"And, they won't now. They never will again."

"Are the games over?"

"In a way," he says so casually but with a touch of seriousness, "Don't worry about Katniss. She's safe for now."

"What about Peeta?" He freezes and thinks about his answer first.

"He will be. They'll be sure of it."

"What happened in the arena last night?"

"You were watching." I nod my head. "Well, what happened was that our plan worked perfectly and failed miserably at the same time. They were able to take Katniss and some of the others out of the arena. The Capitol took the rest of them. That's about all I can really tell you right now. I'm much more limited in my correspondence from the Capitol now." I don't think that I'm going to get much more out of him at the moment.

"I know that I'm in trouble now, too. By association, right?" He clenches his jaw, which gives me all the answer that I need. I wring my hands, nervously, "Does that mean that my friends are, also? I mean besides Katniss and Peeta. My friends who aren't really connected are still in trouble aren't they?"

"You're talking about your friend, Gale?"

"And his family"

"I could give you an innocent answer like I have been for ten years. Yes, they're perfectly safe and everyone is fine and everyone is going to _be_ fine. Things will go back to exactly the way that they always were soon. I could say that, but I know that you know better than to believe any of it." I drop my head down. "If it comes down to it, with my new understanding of how the Capitol is working, they're all in the same boat, for one reason or another."

"I should've never been around them so much. I should've known what would happen."

"You're not the reason why they're targets. They've been targets. Gale and the Hawthornes, Prim and Mrs. Everdeen. They were always in danger unfortunately." Because of Snow's hate for Katniss.

"I don't want anything to happen to him… them… to any of them." My voice cracks for a moment.

"It's all right, Madge. They'll be taken care of."

Is this not the same kind of speech that he just told me not to believe?

"If this association thing is so important to the Peacekeepers and the Capitol, why didn't they simply take us in yesterday, too?"

"He could have. By Capitol standards, he should have. But, I think he gets enjoyment out of seeing us scared and in pain. Not, physical pain, but knowing that we're hurt and grieving and just playing a waiting game now. That we have no real clue when they'll come for us and hoping that we lie awake worrying until they do. There are many things that he doesn't know, though."

He pats my shoulder and says he'll be upstairs to his study.

"Dad," I whisper. "Where is Katniss now? You said they took her. Where are they taking her?" He turns around.

"That's a conversation for later, Madge. When we have more time."

We don't have time right now? He leaves me at the table by myself. That wasn't exactly the conversation that I was hoping to have. I was hoping that he'd be able to explain everything to me. Tell me what that fiasco last night was about. But, I'm still left questioning. I can only trust that my father will somehow sort this mess out soon.

Restless from the long day of waiting around, I go up in my room to kill more time. I straighten up a little, picking clothes up off of the floor. Once I have filled up one dresser with clothes, I move on to one very small one in my closet. I haven't used it in years, so I know that it has plenty of space in it. I grab a handful and carry it over. When I open the top drawer, I get a small surprise.

Sitting near the back is a white leather journal. My name is engraved at the bottom in fancy golden letters. I haven't seen this in so long. It was my diary, if you can really say that. It was a birthday gift from a relative. I loved it very much, but I've never been one to talk about my thoughts, let alone write about them. I only remember using it about ten or so times over two years, before forgetting about it all together. I pick it up and sit down on the floor. The first entry was dated three years ago. Yes, that sounds about right. Flipping through it, I can see that I had no attention span for writing. Most of it is talking about a new song that I learned, something I ate, or something that I felt like doing. The entry dates were spaced out months between each other sometimes, and were never more than two or three sentences. On some pages, I opted to attempt to draw pretty flowers. Later in the journal, I made a mention about turning fifteen. A couple pages ahead, and a couple months later, is my next entry:

_Strawberries today… I can't wait. _

I can't wait. I know that I wasn't talking about the strawberries. I loved them, of course, but my father was the one with the real taste for them all the time. I was talking about Gale. If my memory serves me right, this was around the time that they first started selling them to us. The first time they came, my father answered the door. I merely hid behind furniture watching the seventeen-year-old, whom I'd been staring at so much in school, standing at my door. I remember the sickening butterfly feeling that I got in my stomach the entire time that he was there and how excited I would get when I was the one who had to answer the door. The memory gives me a tiny, warm feeling for a second.

Gale.

I hadn't really gotten the chance to even think fondly of him since the kiss, with everything that's happened. Any thought I had of him was guilt for helping put him and his family in danger. But, the journal reminds me of how happy I was then. Just to have him around compelled me to write in this thing that rarely ever got used. That sounds pretty special to me. I wish that I could talk to him. I'd want to bring up the kiss. Why he did it? What it meant? But, that might be a little bit of overacting and jumping the gun on my part. We wouldn't have to even talk about it. I'd love to just sit at the meadow again and relax. I can't do that anymore, though. Those few good days ended when the Peacekeepers came. I hope that he is all right. I hope that I'll see him again soon somehow.

Thoroughly exhausted now, I abandon the clothes and place the journal on my nightstand. It's something that I don't really want to lose again. I think that I've earned a nap today. I lie in my bed and doze off. An hour later, I wake up slightly when my father peeks his head in my room and closes my door that I left open. A few more hours after, I'm woken again.

_Ring, ring _

The phone in the study rings. I sit up, not used to hearing it at all. We're one of only a few places in the entire district that even has a telephone. The phones in the Justice Building are out and with all of the Victors gone, only the Everdeens would be using one. One look out of my window tells me that it is pretty late at night. Later than anyone would think to call someone if it weren't important. They could be asking about Katniss. It rings again. I get out of bed and go to my door, but I hear my father's rushed footsteps coming down the hall. Once I'm sure that he's in the study, I walk out, too. Approaching the door, I hear him greet someone.

"Hazelle," he says. Mrs. Hawthorne? She's the one that's calling? He carries on in a hushed voice, obviously thinking that I'm still asleep, "I'm glad that you all made it there okay… I know. I'm very sorry to have to do this to you and especially to him. I didn't wish for his burden… Oh, please don't. I am the one who needs to be thanking anyone… Yes, if you don't mind… Very soon, I'm afraid… I am. I'll tell her you said it… I will keep you informed… Same to you. Goodbye."

He hangs up, and I go back to my room. After five minutes, he leaves and returns upstairs. If that was Hazelle then she's at the Everdeens. No, they're all there if I heard my father correctly. That's not too strange that they'd want to stay the night over there. What is strange is that they would _all_ be there, leaving their house unattended, and that they would feel the need to inform my father about it. As far as I knew, he hardly even knew Hazelle personally. The only Hawthorne that he was familiar with was Gale and even he didn't ring a bell sometimes. And a "burden?" Nothing is making sense to me.

* * *

After spending yet another morning indoors, I waited until my father went on his job run to the Justice Building. He was home much longer than usual, but luckily, around seven at night, he finally left. Although, he made me promise to stay indoors, I feel like it's the opportune time to visit the Everdeens. I go in my mother's room to check on her before I go. I put on some bluejeans and a violet shirt and tie my hair back in a bun. Keeping a lookout for my father's car, I sneak out the door and go to the Victor's Village.

_Knock, knock, knock_

I bang on the door, trying to be sure not to sound too urgent. They might think that it's a Peacekeeper if I did. Even so, I can hear the rustling going on inside. The curtains draw back too quickly for me to see who it was. There's the sound of hands pressing against the door, presumably checking the peephole.

"It's Madge," Prim calls out. After a couple of moments, she gets a reply.

"Let her in," Mrs. Everdeen says.

Prim opens it up slowly. She smiles slightly and gives me a firm hug. Even though, it warms me to see her so much more cheerful than she was before, something in her hug is odd. Vick and Posy wave from the living room floor. They're surrounded by a bunch of drawings that Prim assumingly helped them with to occupy them.

"Hi," I beam, "I heard that you had some visitors, so I wanted to say hello."

"Yes, they're in the kitchen."

I don't want to ask her about the games. She is in a good mood, probably didn't even see it last night, and I don't want to worry her.

"It feels like I haven't seen you in so long. I'm glad that you're in better spirits." Ironically, her mood suddenly turns somber.

"Oh… Yeah, I do feel much better." We stand uneasily for the moment.

"You said that everyone was in the…"

"Kitchen, yep."

"The kitchen," I nod with a smile and walk past her.

The palms of my hand are moist. I can't help but be a little anxious to see him. My heart beats pick up a bit as I approach, hiding a grin. But, when I walk in, the feeling is strange in the kitchen. I'm met by stares from Mrs. Hawthorne and Mrs. Everdeen and Gale as they sit at the table. Even Rory, who hovers by the sink, is behaving differently, too. I thought that seeing Gale would be a welcoming relief to clear my mind. Not in the slightest. He looks at me with dead eyes and pursed lips. Their frozen glares make me want to back away slowly. Mrs. Everdeen is the first one to come back to her senses.

"How are you doing," she asks as she stands up and hugs me. Her eyes look as if they've been crying.

"I'm fine. I just came by. I'm sorry if I interrupted something."

"No," Mrs. Hawthorne says, "you didn't. We were just talking about things. I truly don't think that it's safe for you to be wandering the streets at night like this."

"I know," I turn to Gale, who is now avoiding eye contact with me, "I just heard that you all were over here. That's all."

"Would you like some tea?" Mrs. Everdeen already has a cup and tea pack ready, so I can't say no. "Mr. Mellark brought us cookies, as well, if you want some."

"Yes, please," I look around again, "Are you guys all right?" They don't say anything for a second.

"Why yes, of course," Mrs. Hawthorne says. Even with Mrs. Everdeen's back to me, I can tell that she's not in agreement with that statement.

I sit down across from Gale and drink my tea, waiting for someone to tell me the truth. But, no one does. Mrs. Hawthorne and Mrs. Everdeen carry on a conversation about the restless miners. Rory leaves the room after grabbing a piece of fruit. Gale traces the design of the table cloth with a kitchen knife, still not talking. After fifteen minutes of this, there's a knock on the door. Mrs. Everdeen answers it this time. I can hear her conversation from the kitchen.

"Is Madge here?" My father. He doesn't sound frantic or scared, so that's helpful. Gale stops what he's doing and looks up when he hears his voice, though.

"She's in here." They walk in the room. He offers a hello to the others.

"Madge, you can't go disappearing like that. Not now."

"I'm sorry. I was seeing what was going on over here. I got tired of being inside."

"Well, we should probably be getting back now. They all need their rest."

With that remark, Gale suddenly stands up and walks out the back door, slamming it behind him. The sound makes all three of us women jump. Mrs. Everdeen and Mrs. Hawthorne exchange glances. I look at them hoping for answers.

"He's had a hard day," Hazelle begins, "He just needs some time to think. Mayor Undersee, you do have time to stay and talk a bit, don't you? We're in no rush to bed." I see what she's hinting at. Go talk to Gale.

"If you insist, Mrs. Hawthorne," he says reluctantly. "We're leaving in twenty minutes, though, Madge." I nod.

They all exit to the front room, leaving me behind. I make my way towards the back door. Looking out of the window I can see that he hasn't gone anywhere. He sits on the back porch looking out to the trees. I know he hears me open the door and step out, but he's not showing it. I sit down next to him. He glances at me out the side of his eye then returns his gaze ahead.

"It's warm again." There I go with my nervous weather commentary.

"Yeah"

"You know, you really are an open book when you're bothered. That's just like my father. He can say whatever he wants, but I can tell when he's upset." He doesn't reply. "You're really not going to tell me what's going on?"

"Sorry"

"If it's about the rebels again, I…"

"Things are bigger than that, Madge," he cuts me off, shaking his head, "I thought I knew a lot, but… no. And, now I have a lot on my plate." _You_ have a lot on your plate?

"There's no need to be cryptic."

"I can't help it. It's out of my hands."

"I thought you knew that you could talk to me if anything is upsetting you."

"Not this."

"Okay," I have to resist the urge to go back inside and forget about this, "I understand."

I don't know why I thought that a couple of kisses could change things. Who was I trying to fool? Was I expecting him to scoop me up in his arms and shower me with affection, declaring his love for me? No, not in the slightest. But, I guess I was expecting a "hello." I had every reason to hope for a bit of something, though. I really did. I felt a lot in those kisses, and I couldn't have been a fool to think that it was slightly the same for him, too. It wasn't an unreasonable thought. However, his actions now speak louder than any kiss that he could have given me. He simply had a temporary lapse in judgment that day, from what I can tell at the moment. So, did I, I suppose. I'm sorry that it happened. There is no space for romance in my life now, anyway. He's doing me a favor, right? Yeah, right.

"Things are going to be really different soon," he says.

"I don't doubt that. They already are."

"Sometimes things were just easier when you thought you knew everything about people. You thought you knew who they were. Everything is too complicated when you stray from that."

"You shouldn't feel like that."

"Well, I'm kind of forced to," he shoots back, gruffly.

"Um, are you mad at me? Because, frankly, I don't think I did anything wrong to warrant you being angry with me," I fire at him.

"I'm not mad at you," he says it in a genuine voice, so I calm myself, "I'm just confused by stuff that is going on. Not ready for it, that's all. It's a lot of responsibility."

I look down at hands and drum my fingers on my knees. I knew it was coming eventually. It's not like I wasn't half way expecting it.

"Is this the part where I get the speech," I ask as I secretly roll my eyes.

"No"

That catches me off guard. I feel his hand grab mine off of my knee. He links our fingers together. Looking at his emotionless face, you'd think it was an involuntary movement. But, he runs his thumb over the side of my hand softly. I cautiously lay my head down on his shoulder, and he doesn't push me away. He relaxes the tension in his arms, so I place my other hand over his. I don't understand; not like I thought I did. If I'm not the problem then what is? If it's something else entirely, why is he being so cold to _me_? That goes for the rest of them, too. As we sit together, I can't help but compare his affection to Prim's hug. There's something a bit off.

"How long are you staying here?"

"Don't know yet"

"Is there something wrong with your house?"

"No"

"What does this have to do with my dad?" For a split second, he grabs my hand tighter.

"Why would your father have anything to do with us staying here?" He's not very convincing when playing dumb.

"Because of the way that you reacted when he came in just now. I _know_ that he does, Gale. I just don't know what."

"Well, I don't know either then," he huffs. For some reason, hearing him snap back is amusing to me, even now, and I smirk a little.

"I'm glad that you're here, anyway."

"Yeah… me, too."

Some time later, Mrs. Hawthorne opens the door, surprising the both of us, and tells me that it's time to go. She grins sweetly when she sees us.

When we get ready to walk out the door, everyone gathers around. My goodbyes aren't anything out of the ordinary. I hug Gale, letting my cheek rest on his chest while he presses his face to my hair. After, I wave to the others, promising to visit them again tomorrow. However, when my father says bye, things are different. He and Gale all but purposefully look in opposite directions. Mrs. Hawthorne delivers forcibly cheerful and normal farewell, even making a joke. Mrs. Everdeen doesn't do the same.

She gives my father a tight hug, which he returns. They don't let each other go. He says something to her, inaudible to my ears, and she nods her head. After a few more moments, they stop, and Mrs. Everdeen steps back. I do not know what that was for. I know that they were friends when they were young through my mother, and that she and my mother were very close when she was in better health. But, I'm wary of it; wary of the reasoning behind it. There shouldn't be so much pomp and circumstance in a normal goodbye.

"What was wrong with Mrs. Everdeen just then," I ask him once we're in the car.

"She was just worried about Katniss. I was reassuring her that everything is okay."

I don't believe him one bit.

* * *

**A/N**: Like I said, there are a lot of questions right now. Madge is supposed to be throughly confused by everything going on. Kind of like Katniss' POV when the arena blew up in CF. Only getting one strange piece of a big puzzle. lol.


	18. Chapter 18

"Mom, talk to me. Wake up, please, Mom!"

I have been attempting to wake her up for ten minutes. I've tried everything, including lightly tossing a bit of water on her and even resorting to having to slap her across the face. She's breathing, but she's not moving or responsive. She had been complaining of a terrible head ache earlier and was nauseated, so I urged her to get some sleep. After a couple of hours, I went in her room to clean up some. I accidentally dropped a large coat rack, causing a huge crash that would've normally woken her up. But, she didn't budge. Since then, she still hasn't budged. I am beyond terrified because this has never happened to her. Just as I'm about to shake her again, her eyes open feebly. She looks around the room, as if she's trying to remember where she is. Her mouth moves to speak, but words don't come out automatically.

"Momma, I'm going to get Dad, okay?"

"No," she chokes out grabbing the pocket of my pants.

"I have to. You need help."

I dash downstairs to the phone, when I remember that the Justice Building phones aren't working. I have to go down there myself then. Opening the front door, I'm greeted with gray skies and an unusual chill in the evening breeze. It looks like a storm is coming again when I run outside. I don't have time to look for my jacket or anything. My white, button-down vest and light blue cut-offs will have to do. I take off towards the Justice Building. For a second, I contemplate going to Mrs. Everdeen for help, but I just feel like I should go to my father first. My neighborhood is so quiet that I can hear nothing but the pounding of my feet on the ground and my heavy breaths. However, when I reach the town, the streets are flooded with people. I should've known that it would be. It sometimes is around this time.

_Of all times for me to have to get somewhere quickly_, I think.

I move through the streets, pushing through countless bodies. The sounds of talking and laughter and yelling are deafening. Everyone in the district must be out shopping today, despite it being so gloomy. I ask people to move out of my way as politely as I can manage, but no one is paying attention to anyone but themselves. Then, I catch sight of two Peacekeepers leaning lazily up against a building, and I stop. They're the same two that came to my house the other day; the brown-haired one and the blonde.

Before I have time to duck away, they both see me, too. They smirk at me in that uncomfortable way again, only this time, I might as well be alone. I attempt to play it off as if I didn't make eye contact with them, but they walk towards me, talking to each other. I don't like this. This doesn't feel right. I turn down a corner, hoping to take an alternate route to get away from them. Looking back, the blonde has disappeared, but the brunette is still on my trail. I walk faster. I do not need this right now. Just let me get to my father, so he can help me. That's all I'm asking for.

I cut around yet another corner to lose him. He's still following me. I look back again and progress to a light jog. He does the same. I run. I have my eyes on the Justice Building. This area doesn't have any people in it, and I'm almost there. It seems like I lost the man now. I'll be okay. I let out a relieved sigh. Just then, strong arms grab me and pull me into an alley. I have time to let out a quick yelp before the blonde Peacekeeper throws his hand over my mouth. I look around hoping that someone saw me, but my attempt to avoid the crowd has backfired on me. There is no one around. The brown-haired man approaches shortly after. I kick and scream, reaching to grab anything around me. My nails scratch along the concrete sides of the building; feet struggle to plant themselves and prevent movement. But, it's in vain. _I have to get to my dad. I have to help my mother_. That's all I keep thinking about. They haul me deeper into the darkness of the alley way and the blonde pins me up against a wall. I try biting his hand, but I'm unable to.

"No," I cry out, but he doesn't care.

"It's the pretty little Undersee. You know, you're father is in a lot of trouble. Your mother is, too. I guess that means you are as well, by default. So, what are you going to do make up for that?" I go to knee him in the groin, but he moves away at the last second. "That wasn't what you were supposed to say."

"Let me go!"

"That's not right either." He snatches me up by my shirt so violently that the top three buttons fly off. The brown-haired one stands by just watching with a smirk on his face. "Hey, _you're_ not watching! You'll have your go! Turn around!" He disappointingly adheres to the blonde's orders.

_This isn't happening. This isn't happening. It's not_, I think.

He crushes me to the wall under the weight of his own body. Somehow, I manage to get my hands free in time, and I scratch the man's eyes. Deep, bloody clawing marks appear across his face. He cries out loudly. The other Peacekeeper turns around. The blonde holds on to his eye with one hand and grips on to my collar with the other.

"You little…"

He raises his hand and brings it down in a fist on the side of my mouth. I stumble, clutching my lip. I can taste the saltiness of blood and feel it on my hand. I hunch over, about to stand back up, when I feel the heavy kick of a boot in my ribs. The blonde pushes me, while the brunette kicks me again. This time the kick floors me. They seem like they're only interested in killing me now. I glare at them, waiting to see which one is going to reach for his gun first.

The brunette is the one that jerks me up this time, throwing me against the wall once more, while the blonde swears loudly. He grabs a knife out of his pocket and presses the cold blade against my throat. I keep my eyes directly locked on his. He is about to say something to me, when another knife suddenly flies towards us and lodges in his temple. His face is petrified as he lets go of me and slides to the ground. I scream a blood-curdling scream. The blonde is just as astonished as me.

"Leave her alone," an unfamiliar man calls from the entry way. He's young, from what I can tell, around his early thirties and from the Seam.

"Who do you think you are," the blonde yells. _Now_, they're starting to draw a crowd, most of them from the Seam, as well. Another miner walks up.

"Get out of here, girl," he says. I don't hesitate before jumping over the Peacekeeper's corpse and running away.

"You try to run again tonight, Undersee! We're coming for you! You're all dead!"

I scramble to run out of the alley, glancing back at the blonde's wildly furious expression. I cover my mouth and clutch my side, still winded from the blows. I see the faces of the people in the crowd.

"Is that the mayor's daughter?"

"That's Mayor Undersee's daughter."

One person, upon hearing that, runs in the direction of the Justice Building. Some of the people try to comfort me, but as much as I appreciate them, I just want to get back home now. Then, I hear rounds of gunshots firing into the crowd and screams accompanying them. When I turn back, I see the men that helped me slump over. He shot them. He doesn't stop there. He fires again and again, mowing down a woman, and elderly man, a teen boy and others attempting to run away. Everyone starts screaming. Six shots in total fire until the clicking sound of an empty magazine rings out. And, that's what starts it.

"Get him!"

"Kill him!"

The crowd is rampant. The blonde made a dire mistake killing those people, because the others, obviously tired of Peacekeeper tyranny, intend on returning the favor. They take out knives and blunt objects and move in on him. I hear his agonizing cries, followed by his gargled scream, followed by nothing. I feel bad for thinking it, but I'm elated when I hear his certain death. The people are still animalistic as they tear at his body and the brunette's. I don't intend to stay and watch the show. The riot spills out into the square. Still limping slightly, I try to back out before anymore trouble comes.

But, as I start to run away, I see what looks like a hundred Peacekeepers marching forward with their large guns aimed at the crowd. I'm unwillingly pushed back into the throng. Only a handful of people are able run when the Peacekeepers open fire. The easily mow down rows and rows of those who are simply trying to run away. Madness. Many in the crowd attempt to escape. Others throw stones and bricks at the Peacekeepers' lines. Whether they fight or flee, the Peacekeepers shoot to kill. No matter what weapons the crowd can come up with, it's not a match for the heavy artillery. A mother scooping up her son is gunned down, along with her child. A boy, whom I know that I've seen at school a couple of years behind me, is shot, too. People all around me, surrounding me, are murdered.

The Peacekeepers charge the crowd, adding more to their slaughter. Left and right, people drop around me; citizens and Peacekeepers alike. A weaponless older woman jumps on the back of an officer, strangling him. But, she is thrown on the ground and beaten by three more officers. One man uses a glass chard from a broken window as a knife. Everyone is ruthless and blood hungry. I catch the sight of a young woman hurling a rock at the side of a Peacekeeper's head. She did more than enough damage because he falls and doesn't stand back up. I've seen her before.

She's the same woman that became so emotional at the rebel, Gibb Vinnings', execution. She's a far cry from the tearful girl I saw on that morning, though. Now, she single-handedly tears through attackers using anything she can grab as a weapon. She picks up a bottle of liquor and rips a piece of cloth from her dress, stuffing it into th e bottle's opening. I can't figure out what she's doing. She hops up on a barrel and scans over the area. Focusing her attention on a large patch of officers, she pulls out a lighter and sets the cloth ablaze. Then, she launches it at the Peacekeepers, engulfing them in flames like some sort of bomb. A makeshift weapon unseen by my eyes prior to. But, before she has time to react, she is shot through the chest multiple times and falls. Just as I felt on the execution day, I have to turn away, feeling as if I knew her personally.

This scene is completely out of control. It's like something that I've never seen before in this district. People taking on the Peacekeepers; Seam and even some Town dwellers alike. Watching death on the television versus actually being encompassed by it. Two experiences that could never be any further apart, I see now. The smell of the blood taking over the air and the sounds of the angry and pained screams is something that can't be truly grasped through the television screen. Killings surround me as I'm forced to crawl on my hands and knees just to avoid the flying bullets. If I don't get myself untangled from the deadly crowd, I'll surely fall, too. The bloodbath has erupted into insanity when more Peacekeepers arrive followed by a large, armed group of miners.

I finally spot a clear path and a safe enough route to take me back home. I dart as fast as I can, the sounds of rebellion still following me. Many merchant people pour out of their homes as they see me run by and hear the disruption from the square.

"What happened," someone asks as I pass them.

I don't answer. I don't have the thought process to do so. I just keep running. My eyes don't even shed tears, likely because my brain is too numb to tell them to. My side is killing me, yet I can't feel it.

I fall through the front door of my house and collapse on the cold, tiled floor. I want, no need to get up to aid my mother, but I'm rendered totally unable to move. My hands ground themselves and refuse to lift. My whole body is shaking, and I can't stop it. Even from my house, I still hear the gun shots and yelling. Please, make it stop. I don't want to think about all that I encountered. The assault, the fighting, the bodies, the… the…

As my eyes fall to the floor, scarlet drips of blood stain the white surface. It's not my lip, which has already stopped bleeding. It's coming from my hair, but it's not from me. I gasp repeatedly as I notice that ends of my hair are covered in the blood of those killed around me. I run to the kitchen, nearly hyperventilating, turn the water on, and scrub the blood out of my hair.

_Get off! Get off! Get off!_

I pick up a bar of soap and viciously rub it over my strands. I feel like a madwoman, rushing to clean my golden locks, now stained pink. Tires screech in the driveway. The sound of the car door slamming and running feet echo as the front door swings open. My father wastes no time looking for me. Someone must have told him what happened to me.

"Madge," he yells with the frightened tone of a scared parent. He runs up to the kitchen door, "Madge!"

His eyes are burning with anger. He comes up to me, gripping me and looking me over. He is mortified by the sight of my torn and bloody clothes.

"I'm fine. I'm okay," my voice trembles. I struggle to get all of my words out while keeping an unsuccessful front, "I just need to clean myself up a bit and help Mom. She's… she's not doing… well."

"Who did it? Who was it," he shouts.

"They were Peacekeepers. They grabbed me off the street and pulled me in between a couple of buildings. They didn't do anything to me," I say, and then remembering my busted lip, "but this."

"I'll kill them!"

"They're already dead. Some miners came and helped me, but they were killed, too. And, the Peacekeeper kept shooting people. Then, the crowd got him. But, more Peacekeepers came and… and…" He holds me tightly, and I cry on him.

"It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay."

"He said they were coming for us tonight. They do know, Dad. They know everything."

"I knew it. I knew that something was wrong today. Two officers were kept talking about ten o'clock tonight. Now, I know why." I look at the clock, which reads seven-thirty. If he's right, there's only two and a half hours left.

"But, they can't still be coming now. Not with all of the fighting going on. They're too preoccupied, right?"

"No. No, they're coming here regardless of what happens. He's been waiting for this."

Thread has been waiting for this. He's been waiting for any reason to come and dispose of the traitor family Undersee, and he'd never miss the occasion.

A knock on the door, shocks the both of us. It's an anxious and urgent knock. I whisper to my dad to not answer it, especially without anything to arm himself with.

"A Peacekeeper wouldn't knock. They would just kick the door in."

He moves up to the door and opens it. A middle-aged woman stands outside gazing with hurt eyes at my father's face. It's Emmie Stuffolk. Why is she here? Had she not been the one who was so adamant about leaving my parents to rebel alone?

"Is she okay? I heard that something happened in town." I assume that she's talking about me.

"She is. What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry that we abandoned you all. Please, you have to understand…"

"Of course I do, Emmie. I know. I'm very sorry that I don't have time to talk about this right now. They're coming for us, so you'd better leave while you can, okay?" He starts to close the door on her, but stops it with her arm.

"No, that's what I came for! After I found out about Madge, I knew that something had to be done," her voice cracks as tears fall, "You guys have to get out. I was able to get a hold of Plutarch and Haymitch. They're doubling back to pick you up from the spot."

"Emmie?"

"I told them about what's happening. About the mayhem, and the fact that… we all backed out. They won't be able to come until around midnight, at the earliest, though. Please don't miss them."

"And, they know that others will be coming, too? Besides Madge?"

"Yes. They know everything you told us. I know that no one was able to find the clearing, but maybe if you look around more when you get there…"

"That's not a problem anymore. I have someone going that knows exactly where to go."

"Oh, that's a relief. I was so worried about that. I wish that I could help more, but I don't want them…"

"I understand. Are you sure that you don't want to leave, too."

"It's all right," she simply replies.

"I can't thank you enough, Emmie. I'll never be able to," he says as he embraces her, "Please take care of yourself."

"Don't worry about me. I'm just a shoemaker's wife, remember?"

And with that, she runs away down the street. I made a terrible mistake calling her a coward. I am forever in her debt. The news of our escape sends my dad into a frenzy. He runs around gathering papers from secret cubby spaces around the house. Each time he grabs a stack he tells me what they are.

"Lay outs of each district… Lay outs of the Capitol… Lay outs of President Snow's home… Names and pseudonyms of allies," Paper after paper. Label after label. It's all a lot to take in. "These are very important! Pay attention! It's pivotal that this information escapes the district, too."

"Escape to where, Dad? Where is there to escapes to now?"

"To 13."

"13? 13 what?"

"To District 13, Madge. That's where the hovercraft is going."

I freeze. No, this doesn't make sense. We can't go to District 13. It doesn't even exist anymore. It's all but a fable. A legend. There hasn't been a District 13 for over seventy-five years. Is that code for somewhere else? I wait for him to tell me exactly where it is that we're really going. But, he looks at me sternly without a further word.

"District 13? But… that's impossible. 13 was destroyed a long time ago because of the last rebellion. There's no way that anyone can go there now." I feel as if I'm reciting force-fed information from my school text books. I'm telling him as if he doesn't know or is delusional. Is he delusional?

"Allies across Panem. Some that you'd never dream of. That's what I said to you. You know better than to trust what you're told in school. District 13 exists, and it is a thriving society and ally."

"How can that be? How can they go on without the Capitol knowing?"

"The Capitol knows exactly what is going on. They've always known and unwillingly aided. There is so much I want to tell you, but right now you need to focus on getting out."

I run behind him in a dazed stupor. It's not true. It… but… It's District 13. The infamous, the notorious, and the ill-fated District 13. The whole reason for the reapings and the Hunger Games. The constant reminder of what will happen to us if we try to revolt, and the reason why few ever did. How am I supposed to believe that it's still around when I've spent seventeen years knowing that it's not?

I go in my room and throw on the nearest pieces of clothing that I can find; a navy blue t-shirt and dark jeans. Anything to get me out of the tattered and stained mess of my former outfit. I make my way to the study. My father is stuffing papers into a bag with one hand dialing on the phone with the other. After a couple of moments, he starts talking.

"It's time… Don't bother taking anything. Just go. They'll be after us all at ten. They have to be out, and you have to be back before then. Go back to the Everdeens, and I'll wait for you there… Follow along the fence. They're all in the square right now… Hurry as fast as you can possibly go and faster."

He hangs up the phone, ignoring the fact that I heard everything.

"Who was that?" He doesn't answer my question. "Who were you talking to?" He gathers his belongings and pushes me out of the room and down the stairs. Once we're in the living room, he looks my directly in the eyes.

"Just wait here for me to come back. If there is any knock or banging at the door or any commotion outside, I want you to hide. Hide as long as you can. Okay?"

"Yes, but what about you? What if they catch you before you get back?"

"If I'm not back by nine-thirty, run and take these."

He leaves me with the papers, now stuffed in a bag. I take the time to briefly put ice on my lip and hold another towel of ice to my ribs. Nothing is able to quite register with me. Unbelievable? No, that's not enough to say it right. I can't even figure out a word to express my feelings right now, except for scared. Of what, though? We're getting out, even if where we're going is beyond belief, and… wait, that doesn't make sense. My father was talking to someone at the Everdeens again; someone that is coming with us, someone that knows about us. He told Mrs. Stuffolk that he had someone that knew where the clearing was. There's only one person I know that he could've known that.

He was talking to Gale.

He was talking to… Gale?

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A/N: Next chapter coming soon!


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N**: :(

* * *

It's been almost one hour since he left. Coming up on nine-thirty exactly. I have to do what he said for me to do. If he's not back by nine-thirty, I have to get his papers, count my losses and go. Get away as fast as I can. That's what he told me. But, I can't bring myself to leave; not without my loved ones. If my father doesn't return, I can only assume that something might have gone wrong with Gale and the others, too. I don't think about why they're coming along. That doesn't matter to me right now. What matters is that they're supposed to be escaping with us. I'm not leaving anyone behind. I'll just stay here and wait for the Peacekeepers if I have to.

_Dad is okay. And Gale is okay. And Mrs. Hawthorne, and Rory, and Prim, everyone. They're all okay. They're all okay_, I keep repeating to myself, hoping that I'll eventually believe it. I stare at my watch.

Five minutes later, as if on cue, my father bursts through the door, and Gale is trailing behind him. I've never been so happy to see them. Gale is wearing a shirt usually worn for mining that is torn a bit and spotted with dirt. A small leaf hangs on to a patch of his hair. He looks as serious as my father does. Once he gets sight of my bruised lips and the blood stains still on my hair and arms, his eyes widen in shock. He quickly walks up to me, and grabs my face, examining it just as my father had.

"What did they do," he nearly yells. He's trying to hold back his rage. His thumb gently prods over my bruise as he creases his brows. "Where are they?"

"They're gone. Forget about it…"

"Forget about it?" He looks ready to fight. I never imagined that he would ever be so genuinely worried about me.

I cave in and throw my arms around his neck and he holds me, too. I lose myself momentarily and place an unsuspecting kiss on his lips. It's all I can manage to express my joy to see that he's okay. I didn't think I'd be able to experience this again. I don't care that my lip is in complete pain, even though that doesn't bother me too much at this second. I don't even care that my father, standing right behind me, sees us. There is much more urgency behind this kiss. He pulls back with a semi-regretful expression. I don't want to let him go, but I do, remembering our current situation.

"I'm sorry for this," he says flatly.

"Sorry? For what?" His eyes aren't telling me anything, and neither is he.

He hurries past me, his hand lingering on my waist for a moment, and returns to helping my father. I join them.

"Gale," Dad begins, "does Rory know exactly where to wait?"

"Yes, I showed him on the map. They should already be there. The Everdeens, too"

I'm elated that he got his family and Katniss' out all right. I couldn't have imagined how it would be if Rory or Prim or Mrs. Hawthorne or any of them didn't make it. Suddenly, I think to my own mother. Somehow, helping her leave too had slipped my mind. I haven't even checked on her since I returned. My father was obviously too preoccupied, as well.

"Wait. Mom," I say as I run up the stairs.

"Madge," Dad yells, but I don't pay him any attention.

I barge through their bedroom door to find my mom lying on the bed with the lights off. She looks horrible, even worse than this morning. Her skin is paler than usual and her blue eyes are surrounded by dark circles. Her hand falls weakly over the side of the bed. I don't understand. What's wrong with her?

"Mom, get up! We're leaving!" She doesn't answer me, "Mom?"

I walk closer to her. Her breathing is staggered and her pupils are wide. She shakes lightly and sweat glistens on her skin. My worst fears of this morning are quickly confirmed. This isn't just a really bad headache. This is something else. Something much more serious. I call her quietly again as I crouch down at her eye level. She moves her eyes to me and struggles to smile.

"Madge, is that you?" Can't she see me?

"Yes. We have to get out. The Peacekeepers are going to be here."

My father runs in the room and stops short when he sees me talking to her. I grab her hand to help her up, but she cries out in pain when she moves even an inch. Now, I'm scared. My father takes my hand away from her solemnly.

"Dad, what's going on? She was bad earlier, but not like this."

"She's sicker than you thought, Madge. There's no way that she'll even make it out of the bed room let alone through the woods."

"What are you saying," I say ripping my hand away from his.

"Sweetheart, I'm not coming," she wheezes out.

"It's called a brain aneurysm," he says gravely, "It's progressed too far. She's going to have to stay here."

"What," I scream. My eyes well up. "No! We can't just leave her! She can make it, and we'll get her help on the hovercraft! Why aren't you even trying?" I hold my mother's frail hand once more.

"He's right. Madge, my vision is already fading. It hurts to breathe. I can't make it."

"But, if you just get to the woods, Dad can carry you. Or Gale, he's here, too. We can get you out."

"And you'll be slowed down. I just want _you_ to get out of here. Just listen to me. You're running out of time." I want to argue with her. Yell at her. Drag her to the hovercraft myself, but I can't. I remember the words she said to my father after she found out about Dara Lemmreck.

"_Whatever we have to do, do it. Anything."_

Anything to get me out safely. I don't want to admit it, but I understand why she is staying behind. I don't want to leave her, however if she is brave enough to sacrifice herself for us, I must be brave enough to let her go. It's what she wants.

"I love you _so_ much, Momma," I whisper as I kiss her on the cheek.

"I love you, too, sweetheart." She kisses me weakly on my forehead.

My father gives her a look and pulls me out of the room. I can't look at her. I don't want to accept that this is the last time I will ever see my mother. I'll never hear her voice again or feel her hand on my face to soothe me. I gasp once it settles in on me and tears stream. I grab my heart, as I'm sure that it is about to rip open. I can't breathe anymore. Dad leads me quickly down the stairs. Gale keeps his head to the ground somberly. My legs are weak, but I grab my white sweater, preparing myself to leave. My father snatches the bag off of the table and hands it to Gale before we follow him to the back door. He checks outside of the window to see if there is anyone out back. When he sees that the coast is clear, he opens the door and pushes me and Gale ahead.

"Make sure you don't lose this bag," he says to Gale, "Stay quiet until you get to the craft, even after you're in the woods. They'll help you all once you're on the craft." I realize quickly what he's saying.

"No, no! Not you, too! You can't leave me!" Gale grabs me by the arms as I try to fight my way back. I hit him repeatedly. Why is he interfering? Then, I'm hit with another realization. "Did you know about this? You knew he wasn't coming? That's what you're sorry for?"

That's exactly it. I hit him again and run back. My dad only looks at me with sorrow in his eyes. I see tears forming, as well. I've never seen him cry. He hugs me tightly.

"Why?"

"I'm staying with her. We got into this together, and that's how we'll stay. If they want one of us then they'll get both of us." He steps back and grabs my face, "But, _you_ need to escape. We did this so you can have a better future. Our efforts won't die with us, you understand?"

"No! Dad, please don't do this! I can't lose both of you." I dig my nails into the doorway, but he holds me back from coming inside.

"Keep quiet. You need to go, Madge. I love you… with all of my heart" He shoves me off, and Gale traps me again. I flail around, screaming at the top of my lungs.

"Please! I can't make it by myself! Daddy!" That does him in. He tries to keep his face stone, but he's breaking. Gale puts his hand over my mouth, muffling my screams. He grips his arm around my body and hauls me back, nearly having to lift me off the ground.

"Take care of her like I told you, Gale," is the last thing I hear my father say. Gale nods firmly, and the door closes.

I continue my futile attempts to get away. To run back into my house and die with my parents. It's how it should be. Why don't they understand that? It's okay for them to die together but not me? As we reach the side of my house, we see a squad of Peacekeepers marching up to my door, lead by Romulus Thread. Gale pulls me into a bush nearby, and we crouch low with our backs to the wall of the house. I jump at the sound of splitting wood as they kick in the door and run inside. Moments later, I hear two quick gun shots and a thud. He's gone. My father is… gone. I close my eyes, trying to block out the thoughts in my head. The boots march upstairs. _She's dying anyway. Leave her alone_, I think. But, after rummaging around the second floor, they find their way to her bedroom on the third floor. Two shots ring out again.

My heart stops; I'm quite sure of it. Both of my parents are dead; executed, murdered. I feel numb, and I slump over. I could easily faint right now. Gale lifts me back up and pulls me closer, burying his chin in my hair. Had it not been for him, I'd probably have fallen on the ground. Had it not been for him, I'd be dead in the house. I latch on to his arm and cry. They check the other rooms, presumably for me. I hear some commotion before they move out the front and back doors. I mute my sobs, so we remain undetected. If we're caught, we'll probably get a bullet each right there in the street. One by one, Peacekeepers walk by us. Some of them flash their lights around but somehow don't spot us. Thease Withgott passes by with a heavy gun followed by the other Peacekeeper that visited us with him, giving my father undisclosed information. _Those traitors_, I think. They were working with my father and now they helped kill him.

Then, one Peacekeeper comes by and stops in front of us. She's a woman, I can tell. She isn't very tall, but her uniform makes her look more intimidating. She turns to us and looks closely, eyes wide as she spots us. I try to plan out an impossible escape, but there's no point. However, Gale is not budging. He's staring back at her with puzzled eyes, too.

"Gale," she asks in a whisper.

"Purnia," he replies. Now, I recognize her. She was the Peacekeeper that got Thread to stop Gale's beating. Katniss told me that she was a customer of the Hob, and therefore a customer of theirs.

"What are you…" she begins. Then she looks at me with recognition, "Oh. You have to get out of here; both of you. Hide behind the houses. We're going back to the square."

"Thanks," he says.

"I'm so sorry," she chokes out, staring directly at me. I give her no reaction. I have no allies in uniform right now. She walks ahead and calls out to the others, "This side is clear, sir!"

We wait until we hear them run back down the street before we duck in back of my next door neighbor's house. We're hiding out until they leave, so we're not accidentally spotted. As we kneel behind a large pile of chopped wood, more footsteps approach my house. I thought they were leaving.

"We checked the Seam and the Victor's Village. They're all gone."

"Well where did they go," Thread yells at the top of his lungs. I can't control my anger at merely hearing his voice.

"We've questioned the neighbors, too. They don't know anything"

"Get back to the square with then. You're useless."

They hurry away. Thread now stands alone. My eyes are red with tears and anger. I can't even see straight. He looks back up at the house with satisfaction. He's so pleased with what he did. Then, he grins that grin again. That grin that I hate so much. Normally, I wouldn't have been this upset about it, but he smiling because he killed my parents. My hands tremble as I see a large rock on the ground. I pick it up and, unbeknownst to Gale, stand up and walk towards Thread. It's perfect. He's by himself, unguarded and would not be expecting it. I could walk up and bash him in the back of the skull before he'd know what or who hit him. I focus my eyes on him, ready to kill in any moment, but I'm jerked back. Gale pulls me, as I still keep my focus ahead. I try to pull away from him, but he's stronger and able to grab me back behind the house. He takes the rock out of my hand and throws it on the ground. He grabs my shoulders and looks at me with a stunned face.

"You trying to get us killed?"

"He's right there. I have to. He killed them," I fire through clenched teeth.

"And _they'll_ kill the both of us if you go over there."

He turns me to see six officers running up to Thread. He wasn't alone after all, and Gale is right. If I'd gone and let myself get discovered trying to kill Thread, the other officers would have killed me before I even had a chance. And even worse, they likely would've found Gale and killed him as well. I'm only backing down for him, because if I were alone, I would've at least tried; even if it got me shot.

"Sir, we searched the house again. No sign of her."

"She didn't just disappear into thin air, did she," Thread questions condescendingly, "Burn the house. If she's hiding in there, it'll be a nice awakening for her. And if not… well, it'll be easy disposal of the other two."

That wretched smile again. The Peacekeepers nod in agreement and create torches. Why can't they just leave it be? He got most what he wanted. My parents are dead, Thread. You killed the Mayor. You now have control over the district, because the conspirators are gone. You may not have gotten to kill me, but you might as well have. The Capitol will be so proud. You won. Why isn't it over?

I'm mortified once they circle the house. Gale grabs my hand and heaves me away from the sight. I only hear the shattering of my windows by torches being thrown in, before I'm whisked off. I glance back seeing the first floor consumed in fire. Fire that will soon take over my entire home. Gale tightens his grips on me.

"Watching will only make it worse," he says in a low saddened voice.

We chase the perimeter of the fence, ducking and dodging Peacekeepers along the way, until we reach the escape spot. He yanks the fence up, making sure that no one is around. I slide under and he does the same with my help. I stare back at the sight behind the fence. There are a few buildings in the Seam on fire. Smoke rises up from what I can tell is the Square. Even with all of the turmoil, I can only think of one tragedy in that district. Sure, I'm getting away. I'm on the safer side of an electric fence using a hole that only the particularly well-trained eye can find and being lead by someone who can easily hide out here. But, what does it matter to me? My family is gone. Any memory I have of them will be just that and only that; a memory. I'm out here with seven other people, and I've never felt so alone. What kind of life is this to want?

I collapse on my knees and snatch my hand away from Gale's, unable to move anymore. I don't want to. I hunch over and clutch the hair on my head.

"I can't do it," I cry uncontrollably shaking my head.

"Come on!" He runs back to pull my arm up, but I jerk it away.

"No!"

"Madge!"

"Get _away _from me, Gale! I'm not going! Get out of here! Get everyone else on the craft!"

"He said you'd do this," he mumbles.

He lifts me up and pulls me forward. I have no choice but to run along. Why won't he just leave me? He had already gotten out. He wasn't forced to come back. I'm slowing him down now. If I didn't make it on the craft, he would have a perfectly good excuse. He could just say that the Peacekeepers got to me before he could. It's believable, and I would never hold it against him. But, he refuses to let me go.

We run deep into the woods. Zigzagging through the forest, it's hard to tell where we are supposed to go. But, Gale looks as confident as ever. The roaring sounds of the district still ring out, even all the way in the woods. This uprising got very bad very fast. This is exactly what my parents didn't want to happen.

Suddenly, we hear a whizzing sound of an airplane flying fast over head. Gale and I both drop to the ground and hide ourselves until we notice that it has passed over us. It has moved towards the district. We stand up wondering where it was going. It was always so rare that we saw any planes at all, and these resemble a type of wartime plane that I used to hear about; fighter planes. They fly so low to the ground that I can make out the Capitol symbol donned by each of them. The last time planes like this flew by, awful things happened. Ten more fly over, following the first one, and four more after that. Then, it begins.

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A/N: So, I'm nearing the end of this story. This was a really hard chapter to write, because it made me sad. But, I had to do it because I don't think they made it out.

The next chapter is likely the last one if not next to last, because I'm finishing this right where CF left off. Originally I had no intention of writing a second part, but now, I'm really wanting to!

Thanks for all of the reviews and all that goodie good! They really mean a lot to me and I greatly appreciate them :D


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: WHEW! It has been entirely too long! Sorry for taking so long to get this last chapter up. I was on a trip to Japan on a study abroad for the last month! Little did I know how scarce free internet was out there. So, I had very, very few chances to use my own computer's internet. AMAZING trip, btw, but I sure did miss my fics. lol.

But, if it's any consolation, this is a really long chapter. Longest one of all. Nearly 5,000 words by itself. I would've split it into two, but I couldn't decide where to cut it. I had to wrap up everything neatly. It's got some of my own theories about 13 in it, too. I really do hope that you guys like this.

And now, the final chapter!

* * *

Even louder screeching noises come from above the district, followed by a collision sound, and then the ground around us rumbles in an explosion. No, many explosions. Fires rise up with clouds of rolling smoke from all over. They're bombing the district. I want to start screaming, and even if I do there's no way that anyone would hear over the bombs, but I keep quiet anyway. Over and over again more bombs are dropped, no doubt obliterating anything that hit. The sight doesn't even seem real. Gale, eyes glazed in horror, doesn't move at first. Neither do I. I want so badly to run back, but to what? Our homes are certainly gone now. There is no turning back. But, worse yet, our people, our neighbors, our friends, they're all gone as well, or they will be soon. And, what can we do against the firebombs but get killed, too?

A ball of fire bursts on our side of the fence that brings us back, and forces us to run again. Gale pushes me ahead yelling for me to go, but I still hold on to his shirt behind me. He's not leaving me like my father did. I struggle to hear him tell me which way to go and to see in front of me through all the smoke. At the same time, debris rains down from the sky. It's hard to tell what any of it is, but they burst into flames as they hit the ground. A large chunk comes crashing down, not three feet to the side of us. As it hits, I hear Gale yell out in agonizing pain and fall to the ground behind me. I turn around to see him holding himself up with one hand and gripping the side of his face with the other. His arm is bleeding profusely.

"Gale!" I run over and drop to my knees. I don't want to touch him, because he looks like he's in so much pain. I give him my sweater, wrapping it around his shaking arm. But he pushes me back, gritting his teeth. "Stop it! You're hurt!"

"Get up! Keep going!"

He pushes himself up, grabbing my arm. I look at the streams of blood flowing down his arm and seeping on my hand. It's completely soaked through my sweater tied around the wound, once white, now red. Flying through the woods, my face and bare arms are being sliced at by twigs and tiny branches. Then, I look ahead and see an opening with dark figures moving around it. Faintly against the sounds of the bombing, Hazelle's voice yells frantically calling for Gale, Mrs. Everdeen trying to stop her from running back to the district.

"Gale," Hazelle calls as we run up to them. She hugs him tightly and kisses his cheek. "What's happening?"

"Planes… they're bombing it… everything," he says, out of breath. They all look at him in disbelief.

"When is the craft getting here," she asks him.

"I don't know now."

Another rumble quakes and fire balls fall nearby once more. Everyone lies face down on the ground. Hazelle holds Posy underneath her and grabs on to Vick's hand. Mrs. Everdeen shields Prim, who is in a ball next to Rory. My reaction time is completely thrown off. I sit on my knees not even thinking to get down lower and protect myself. Gale, seeing me dazed, pulls on my arm and guides me to the ground. I press my face into the dirt and use my hands to cover the back of my head. There is a sound of burning trees and brush near us. I lift my head up and get a glimpse of the fire caused by the debris blazing around us. Instantly the smoke, fills my lungs, choking me, so I put my head to the ground again. With a mouth-full of dirt, I ask myself how I got here. How did I get into a situation where my parents are dead, my home is destroyed, and if we aren't rescued soon, I'll be killed as well?

_We should've just stayed behind… I should've just stayed behind_, I think.

Once the bombing has stopped the echoes of chilling screams fill the air. All sorts of screams. Men, women, children, young and old, all crying out in anguish. They're loud enough to hear clearly even from this distance. Posy begins to cry loudly, and Hazelle tries her best to soothe her. The sadness in her voice is evident, too, though. The sounds are too much to bear. It's the sound of people burning, choking on smoke. Sadly, the screams die out as the fire grows larger. Even though I try to hide it, I break down in sobs. The events of this night are too much, too haunting. The feeling of Gale's hand on my back, though it helps slightly, does little to stop the hurt I have.

Then, it seems that everything in the forest goes silent. Even the fire burns quieter. As if out of nowhere, a huge hovercraft appears in the sky. Two ladders quickly fly down to where we're lying. Gale and Mrs. Hawthorne rally the kids together. The boys and Prim climb up higher on one, Mrs. Hawthorne holds Posy at the bottom of it. Gale, Mrs. Everdeen and I get on the second one. Something locks my hands and feet to the ladder, and we are all pulled up.

I turn around to get a last glimpse of the blazing mass that was my district. Every corner of it, every street, every home is covered in fire. There is no Town and no Seam. Unfortunately, it's the only time that our district has been equal. I look over to the area where my house was, thinking of all of the memories lost in it. Thinking of my schoolmates, even the ones that didn't really like. Thinking of the neighbors that could never seem to mind their own business and how much I'll miss them all. Thinking of the loving and sacrificing parents that I will never get to bury properly, and how I have nothing left of them; not even a picture.

"Don't look," Gale tells me from below. I close my eyes and bury my head in my hands as we are lifted through the air.

Before I realize, we're loaded on to the hovercraft, and my hands and feet are freed. A young man helps me off of the ladder. He's not anyone that I've ever seen. He has dark hair, but his eyes are a crystal blue. What really captures my attention is the "13" printed on his jacket. I never thought that I'd ever see anyone from District 13.

"Are you all right, miss?"

"Yes." It takes me a minute to answer him. "You're from…13."

"I am," he replies with a smile. His accent is something that I truly can't pin-point.

I look around examining where I am. The lights are bright in whatever room we are in. The walls are partially stainless steel. It's a cool temperature. The sound of machinery working and low voices murmuring surround me. Bodies huddle in the room but no one that I recognize. They all have such different looks; brown hair, red hair, green eyes, browns eyes, all sorts. So foreign to anything that I've been used to seeing in person, other than on Peacekeepers. They hand us light blankets and flasks of water. I don't take mine, though, neither does Gale. Haymitch walks up with Plutarch Heavensbee. Hazelle and Mrs. Everdeen thank them continuously with tear-filled eyes. As Haymitch scans each of us, he gets a puzzled expression on his face.

"Where are…"

"They didn't come," Gale cuts him off before he has a chance to finish his sentence. For a brief moment, Haymitch looks in shock; Plutarch, as well. Then, he tries to regain himself.

"Well… Where are the papers? They gave them to someone, right?"

Gale hands over the bag, and Haymitch sifts through them.

"Good," he finally says. He walks off and we follow along with District 13 attendants. He attempts to hide it, but I see some rare sorrow in his eyes. He'd known my parents for so long I suppose, that even he can't stop the grief.

Another man approaches as we near the end of a long hallway. He doesn't look too much older than Gale does, but he has an authoritative appearance. He's introduced as First Officer Dante Littgren, but quickly corrects that simply Dante is fine enough. His accent is the same as the other man's. He's tall with a slim, muscular build. His brown hair is shoulder blade length and tied back in a ponytail. His eyes are a strange mixed shade of green and brown, and he's much more welcoming than any uniformed officer that I was used to. However, despite being personable, he appears grim as he brings news.

"The planes were from the Capitol," he begins, "It was an unexpected attack. I don't know where they're headed next."

"Guess they found a new way to stop the rebellions," Haymitch snips.

This is the Capitol that you were so loyal to, Thread? When the rebellions got too out of hand, they simply bomb everything, including the ones fighting for them. You and your Peacekeepers were that expendable to them. There is a twinge of satisfaction thinking of his fate, but it fades quickly. Knowing that they're all dead isn't worth the hundreds of innocent people that died, too. It's not worth having everything that I ever knew destroyed in an instant. They talk about the attack, while people aide us, mainly the children.

I stare blankly ahead. There's so much going through my mind, and yet nothing at all. I see Mrs. Everdeen cradling Prim as if she were a small child again. Mrs. Hawthorne manages to wrap her arms around all of her kids, gripping Gale the tightest. But, what parent is here for me? I'd give anything to have my mother holding my like that again, but she never will. So, I stand back alone.

"Are you doing all right," Plutarch asks me, placing a hand on my shoulder. His eyes are pained and worried, but he still keeps a warm front. I silently shake my head, though. I'm not all right. I won't be all right, not after all that I've seen. "I'm so sorry. We all are. I didn't know your parents very well, but I knew them well enough. Great people."

"Thank you," I mumble out incoherently.

"There are already sleeping quarters set up for you all. Maybe you should lie down."

"No, that's fine. Thank you, though."

He smiles but leads me forward anyway. Haymitch proceeds down a hallway and we once again follow him. Mrs. Hawthorne and Mrs. Everdeen stay behind with the kids.

"Did your father tell you anything else," Haymitch asks with his back towards us.

"Nothing except for what is on the papers," I reply.

"What about you," he says to Gale.

"Same."

"He told me that we're going to District 13," I quickly state.

"We are." I try to take in what he confirmed. While I already knew, it has yet to fully sink in for me.

"How did they rebuild it?"

"We didn't have to," Dante answers, looking back at us, "We simply relocated. Like your district, we were used to life underground. It was just a matter of moving. The Capitol took care of the rest."

"What do you mean," Gale questions, clearly puzzled by his statement.

"When the Capitol battled 13 over seventy-five years ago they saw what kind of threat the district really was by itself. 13 made weapons that stood up against many Capitol weapons. They were much better skilled than anticipated," Plutarch began, "They knew that if 13 fought along with the other districts, the Capitol would be decimated. So, they negotiated. The Capitol would cease attacks, better the conditions in the districts and wave punishment of 13, so long as 13 remains cut off from anyone else."

"We had weak ancestors. No one would've taken that now," Dante says sorrowfully. He's clearly not proud of the treaty. Plutarch went on.

"They never questioned why they had to be cut off. They simply took it as its own retribution. For years, the Capitol supplied them with goods, technology and education just to keep them quiet. Their treatment rivaled, even surpassed that of District 1."

"We had no idea about the Hunger Games. Capitol officials were always around back then, but of course they never disclosed of that. Otherwise, the agreement would've been recanted. They would just say that, 'Everything is as it should be.' We should've known better. It wasn't until fifteen years ago when Plutarch came to us that we even knew that anything was wrong. I was only a child then, but my father told me what happened."

"I was sent in with others to keep tabs on the people. I saw how capable they were and how well they adapted. I knew that they could help. So, I told him the truth about everything; about the games, about the conditions in the districts. They were appalled, to put it plainly. It took every bit of convincing to stop them from attacking the Capitol right then. Instead, they found other ways to infiltrate. They used the knowledge and resources given to them by the Capitol against them, creating things like this craft out of them. They managed to turn the bribery against the bribers."

Haymitch looks at me. I must look as thoroughly confused as I feel.

"Too much for you?" I don't respond. "I thought so."

They must figure that that's enough to spring on us for the time being. Dante nods to me as walks ahead with Plutarch to Haymitch. They speak to each other in low voices. Gale moves up to them to hear what they have to say, but I stay behind. I'm ready to wake up from what I can't decide is a dream or a nightmare. This world where District 13 is still thriving, but District 12 is an obliterated memory. And, what of the other districts? Did they succeed or were they destroyed in the same aerial attack? If not, I wonder if they know what happened to us in 12. I shut my eyes tightly, hoping that when I open them, I'll be back home with my family. But, when I do, I'm still on this mysterious craft in this strange situation. It takes me three more tries of this before I accept that it's real. I reluctantly turn my attention to what the men are talking about.

"We have to get to them soon," Plutarch says, "Last I saw, Cinna was on his last breath, and I don't know how much longer they're going to bother to keep drawing him out."

"As long as it takes us to come back for him. The rest of them, too," Haymitch begins, "It's more than interrogating for them. Capturing Cinna and Peeta and Johanna and Annie is their way of forcing us back into the Capitol to trap us. That's the only thing keeping them alive for now."

"They'll start taking them each out, one-by-one. Likely in public," Plutarch whispers under his breath.

"Peeta will end up being the grand finale," Haymitch retorts in an even more hushed tone.

"Then we have to go in." Haymitch nods in agreement.

I can't hear this right now. I can't hear or think about the possibility of anymore people I know being killed. Then, to hear that even people safe on the craft will be Capitol-bound soon. My father always stressed the importance of numbers when taking on the Capitol. There can't possibly be enough people here to complete that task. They'll die, too. What kills me is Gale. The fearsome glimmer in his eyes as he listens to them talk about their plans to go in. He doesn't even have to say it. I already know. He'd never pass up a chance to retaliate. He's trying to go with them.

Suddenly, I feel myself getting dizzy. The hall looks as if it is moving. It's hotter than it was before. Words that I heard clearly earlier are becoming muffled and fuzzy. I feel sick, and my legs decide to stop moving. My eyes wander around for something to grab onto, because I can't stand up any longer. But, I don't grab on fast enough before I fall. As I collapse to the floor, I catch a glimpse of Gale and Haymitch turning around and rushing towards me. I hit the ground hard, my eyes shut, but I can still sense things around me. Arms lift me and up and a hand feels the sides of my face. I can tell that I'm surrounded by a few people now. Once the hand leaves my face, I hear Haymitch talking.

"She'll be all right, don't worry. The girl's just overwhelmed. Gotta get her to a cabin to rest."

As someone picks me up off the ground, I become fully unaware of anything around me anymore and slip into unconsciousness.

I partially wake momentarily. Long enough to see that I'm in a soft bed with my head facing a wall. The room I'm in is dark. I have fresh clothes on and a robe. There are small bandages on my face and arms. My pillow and the side of my hair are soaked with tears. I quietly cry again until I fall back to sleep.

_Just let me die. Let me be dead_, I think as I awake.

I open my eyes slowly. They're swollen from all of my crying. I see Gale leaning back uncomfortably in a chair next to my bed, fast asleep. He's still wearing his mining shirt and slacks from before. His arms are folded across his chest; one is in a sling. He slouches with his cheek against his shoulder. I get up quietly, as not to disturb him, and walk over to the window. I press a button that cracks the metal blinds open. I'm not sure of our location, but wherever we are, it's sunset and there are many trees below. I grab another chair and sit at the window, staring in silence. It's about two minutes later that I can sense that Gale has woken up. I don't turn around to acknowledge him, though. I only stare at the sunset with eyes on my back.

"What happened?" He knows what I am asking about.

"He came by my house one night a few days ago; same day as the last time you were over. I didn't know why he would be there. Then, he told me about everything. At first I didn't believe him. Why should I have? For all I knew, he could've been trying to get me to say things about the miners' rebellions, so he could arrest us all. But, I realized that he was telling the truth about it all. I'd already known about the rebellions from Katniss, but I didn't expect anything else; Haymitch, Katniss' Designer, the new Head Gamemaker, your family. I didn't know. Then, he told me that the Capitol was closing in on everyone. His partner was executed that morning and that no one else would help him anymore. Things were about to get bad, and he knew that you guys were next," he pauses for a moment, "So, he told me to get you out. My family and the Everdeens, too. 'We're in danger because of our association,' were his exact words. He knew that I'd be able to get through the woods. We stayed with the Everdeens because he wanted to have phone contact with us, and he said that we would only have a matter of minutes to get ourselves out. It wouldn't be enough time to get from the Seam to the Victors Village. He showed me a map and said to get to a clearing in the woods and a hovercraft with '13' on the side would come for us. But, he told me that your mother was too sick… and that he was staying behind with her. He didn't want to tell you, because you would've found a way to stay, too. That's what I wanted to tell you at the Everdeens. I've never been one for keeping secrets. It was tearing me up, thinking of what I had to do."

Why Gale? Why did he choose Gale for this burden of having to take someone away from her death-sentenced family? Because he saw that we were friends? And then, I recall my dad's words, and I think about them.

"_He knows his way around the woods, right?"_

"_Stick with him… He seems like a good guy; good person to have around."_

"_I have to make an arrangement."_

Of course. My father was planning an emergency escape long before I knew he was, and Gale was the only one who could help. The only one who could maneuver through the woods and would know where to go. I think about what might have happened if I would've never mention Gale to him and reminded him about his woodland skills. Would he have thought to ask him on his own? Or would he have accepted our fate and allowed me to stay, as well?

"That's why you were acting so strange at the Everdeens that night. You were trying to tell me what was happening."

"It was hard to believe. It still is."

It all makes sense to me now. Everything. When my father disappeared after we found out about the Lemmrecks. Why Mrs. Everdeen was crying and giving too long of a goodbye to my father. It was because she knew what he was going to do. They all knew what he was going to do. Everyone except for me.

Gale walks up and kneels in view of my eye sight. It's the first time that I see the burn on his face. It starts near his eye and comes down by the corner of his mouth, covering much of one side of his face. The remnants of the attacks that destroyed all of our homes.

"Your face," I say, running my fingers lightly over the injury. He flinches, and I pull my hand back.

"It shouldn't look this bad for too much longer."

"And, your arm"

"It'll heal." He tries hard to cover up the pain of it.

"Where are your family and the Everdeens?"

"We're all in our own cabins. The Everdeens are next door. My family and I are down the hall. I only came here to see how you were doing." I don't say anything back. He looks on the ground then back up at me with an unreadable face "Katniss is here on the craft."

"What" I shriek, I'm nearly floored when he says the words. My eyes tear up with joy. It's the only ounce of happiness that I've allowed myself since we escaped. I'm ready to run out of the room and find her. "Katniss? Where is she? Have you seen her yet?"

"They wouldn't let me talk to her for a couple of days. I was about to go in there, and see if they will now."

"They won't let you talk to her?"

"She's a mess right now, from what I've heard." He sighs deeply, which worries me. "Something went wrong. President Snow has Peeta."

"I heard. I know" And, just that fast my heart breaks again remembering it. "Oh, Katniss. What have they done? They've destroyed everything."

"The Capitol doesn't care. You know that as well as I do." Now is the time to bring it up.

"They're going to the Capitol."

"Yeah"

"And, you're going with them." I nervously wring my hands in my robe. He glances out the window before turning his eyes on me.

"I don't see why I wouldn't," he replies as if he's expecting a challenge.

"Normally, I'd try to give you all sorts of reasons why you shouldn't, wouldn't I? I can't this time, though. I completely understand why you would… So, you must understand why I'm going, too."

"No, you're not," he quickly snaps without even a beat of hesitation.

"Yes, I am."

"When the craft stops at 13, you'll be able to get off and stay there. It's safer," he says as he gives me a stern glare. But, he quickly realizes that I'm not listening to him. "What are you trying to do in the Capitol? Fight? Kill people?"

I bite my lip, knowing that I don't actually want to do that. Taking lives is what the Capitol does, not me. But, the amount of pain I have gives me the same feeling that I had when I last saw Thread. Blind fury. The kind that gets you killed.

"You know, I had a similar conversation with my father not long ago. I don't think that he felt as if I had much of a reason to get involved with his rebellion. He couldn't understand why I wanted to help him so much… and, I couldn't understand why he didn't want me to."

"Because no one wants you to get hurt. That's why," he shoots back. I'm not sure that he meant to say that out loud.

"And, you think I never wanted the same for anyone else? You're trying to talk me out of it, and it's not working. Do you think that Katniss will be any easier to convince? She'll be going, no matter what anyone says. My family is gone. District 12 is gone. Peeta's kidnapped. You and Katniss are going into battle. If no one comes back, that's everything that I…" I stop and take a deep breath before continuing, "That's everything that I care most about. Gone. So, I'm supposed to sit back in 13, this place that was not even supposed to exist, and wait for that?"

Gale falls silent. He's knows that he's lost this battle with me. I have as much of a reason to want go as anyone else does, even if he thinks that I'm not capable enough to. He places his hand on my knee for a moment then begins to stand up. I trap him in my arms, feeling terrible when I accidentally press up against his injured arm. He doesn't budge, though. He carefully puts his good arm around my back. I press my face against the side of his neck, and he does the same to me. I feel his breathing on me as we both tighten our grips a little.

"Thank you," I whisper, hoping that he does understand how indescribably thankful I am for what he did. He nods and stands up, walking towards the door. He reaches in his pocket and pulls something out.

"This was in the bag your father gave us… I'm thinking that it's for you."

He holds up some kind of paper and places it on my pillow. I hear him sigh as he gets ready to walk out. To see Katniss. I want to see her, too, but I don't think I'm ready to see her reaction to all that occurred. Her tears that I so rarely see.

"What are you going to tell her?"

"About what?"

"About everything that happened in the district… _to_ the district. How are you even going to say it?" He pauses and thinks about it for a second.

"I don't know."

With that he walks out, leaving me to think by myself again. I go to the bed and grab the paper he left. I gasp when I find that it's not just a piece of paper. It's a picture. A picture of me and my parents. I was probably ten or eleven in it. I remember it being taken by Grandfather Donner before he passed away. The three of us are sitting in the grass. My mother, whose hair was down and flowing in natural golden waves, looked so happy, laughing. I sat grinning in the lap of my smiling father. I always loved this picture so much. I know exactly why he picked this one to give to me. Because when I was younger, I would grimly say that if something ever happened to the house and I could only grab one thing, it would be that picture of us, looking as happy and loving as we did then. He knew that my heart would ache for something to have of them. He knew that in their absence, it would be the one thing to dream fondly about, and that's how he wanted me to remember them. Just as they were in this picture.

Wiping away a single tear, I walk over to a small mirror. I look even less healthy than my mother on some of her sickest days. My hair is stringy and partially damp; still with traces of dirt from the forest. My skin tone is sickly pale. I examine my puffy eyes, surrounded by dark circles. They look crazy to me. Who is this girl? This isn't the same girl I knew from District 12. The mayor's bored child with little more to do with her time than play the piano. This girl is mad. She looks beaten up, angry and scorned. I don't see much left of the meekness that she was known for. She's not the same anymore.

She's the fugitive daughter of the treacherous mayor of a place once called District 12 and his co-conspirator wife.

I smile proudly to myself.

* * *

Thanks again for reading! A huge thanks to those who were following along this whole time just about. I appreciate the heck out of all of you! I'm going to get started on trying to write the second part, as well as mini fics that I've been working on and my own OS. School is starting back, so my writing time will be very limited, though :( I try my best!

- Maia


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